


and I will love with urgency (but not with haste)

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-13 01:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12973206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: When Vasquez moves to Rose Creek to be their town doctor, it takes some time for Faraday  to shake his bitterness at the town's outpouring of affection for Vasquez. Soon after he stops feeling like he's been replaced, though, he begins to develop his own.





	1. January through June

**Author's Note:**

> This is for SwingSet and HazelAthena because the former gave me the idea and fleshed out the world and the latter encouraged me as I began to write this modern day id-fic. 
> 
> Title comes from _Mumford and Sons_ and there will be three parts to this.

## JANUARY

Vasquez doesn’t often sit at a bar drinking with no plans to leave, lingering and letting the time slip away from him. At least he has a good excuse. It’s January and Denver has been experiencing heavier snow than usual, giving him reason to stay inside until it can clear enough that he can bundle up and trudge through the miserable cold to make it back to his hotel. Conference season is his least favourite, but he’s been tapped to give a few speeches and it’s also a good excuse to stay away from his apartment, seeing as it’s a very tense place at home right now. Glancing out the window to where the snow begins to look thicker in the streetlights, he thinks that maybe he should have taken more conferences in California and Mexico.

“You look like you’ve had better days.”

Distracted by his misery at both the weather and his personal situation, it takes Vasquez a moment to turn and find a middle-aged man gesturing to the seat beside him, apparently talking to _him_.

“You mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead,” Vasquez offers, checking his watch. He’s got hours yet before he needs to get some sleep and even if this winter storm keeps up, he should be fine if he stays a while longer. Besides, most of the other doctors here at the conference are huddled around other bars, pool tables, and restaurants where they’re enjoying the lack of a presentation in the morning and are drinking to celebrate another day of the conference done. He doubts he’s going to have a full house at his talk in the morning.

“What’re you drinking? It’s on me.” The man digs out his wallet and lifts a finger to get the bartender’s attention. “You Alejandro Vasquez?”

Vasquez lifts a brow. Curious, but not strange, given that he’s one of the speakers, but he doesn’t usually have _fans_. “Yes,” he agrees, a touch suspicious. “And you are?”

“Sam Chisolm.”

“Are you a medical professional?”

“Me? Hell, no, I’m a sheriff,” he says, the announcement filled with delight and pride. It’s clear that Chisolm truly loves his job, but it does leave Vasquez completely puzzled by what’s going on. “What are we drinking?”

“Tequila on the rocks,” he says, unable to strip away the suspicion in his voice. “Normally, sheriffs don’t leave their jobs to come see me talk, let alone buy me drinks.” It wouldn’t be the strangest way he’s been picked up, but given that he’s only just coming off of a breakup, he’s already trying to think of a way to let him down gently.

“Then it will be even stranger when I tell you that I travelled all the way from Rose Creek to visit,” Sam goes on, placing a tequila on the rocks in front of Vasquez and turning on his stool so that he’s directly facing him.

That news is more than Vasquez knows what to do with. He’s already cycling through let-downs in his head, wondering if it’s polite to wait until he’s done with the drink to turn down whatever strange pick up this is, but at the same time, it’s not like Sam has tried anything yet.

“Mr. Chisolm…”

“Sam,” he interrupts, “Feels better if we’re casual.”

“Sam,” Vasquez corrects himself, feeling his stomach twist warily as he debates how much of an asshole he’s about to look like. Sam doesn’t look like he’s had the best week, with the pale wash on his face and weary set of his shoulders. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s off guard, Vasquez might be smarter about picking up the small details, but at the moment, he’s currently trying to get out of this situation without causing a scene. “I’m flattered, really, but I’m…”

“Son, I’m not here to come onto you,” Sam cuts him off, holding up a hand. “I’m the sheriff of Rose Creek. It’s a small town in California that you’ve probably never heard of, which becomes a problem given that we’ve got ourselves a decent mining operation, but at present, we’ve got no medical professional outside of the local vet. He’s good,” he admits, “does a nice job patching people up, but there’s been some recent developments that have made it clear that we need a professional. That’s you.”

“So why do you need an emergency surgeon?” Vasquez asks warily. He knows that he’s been talked about in a few circles lately, what with having developed some more efficient processes in emergency surgeries that reduce the time under anesthetic that’s been key at removing tumors, but how does that have anything to do with a mine? “And why me?” 

“I told you that I’m a sheriff, that means I’m good at people,” Sam says. “For instance, don’t knock my teeth out for saying, but I did a little digging on you and found out that you and your firefighter boyfriend just broke up. You’ve been taking vacation days and attending conferences, I suspect to stay away from the shared apartment while he vacates. I figured that a man like you might appreciate the offer for a trial run in a welcoming town away from all that.”

Vasquez doesn’t flinch while Sam prods and pokes at his life, but it’s a difficult thing. He’s _right_ , on practically all fronts, but he still hasn’t said why it matters so much that they get a doctor now.

“What changed? Why is your vet…”

“Dr. Faraday.”

“Why’s he not good enough anymore?”

“Well,” Sam begins, thanking the bartender for the vodka on the rocks that he brings over, saluting Vasquez with it. He swallows half the contents of the glass back with ease before setting the heavy glass down on the bar with a sound that reeks of finality. “That’d be because I’m sick. Colon cancer,” he says. “While I’m not going to fight past my time, I refuse to give death the chance to take me so soon. I need someone who’s a little more skilled than a vet for this and I’d prefer not driving at least two hours each way for decent treatment. Not to mention, there’s a lot of other cases in town that’ve been shuffled off the priority list. You’re a wanted man, Vasquez, you could do anything you want, so here’s my offer. Free room and board for a year while you try out Rose Creek, you can leave when all’s said and done, we provide you with the local clinic and all the equipment you need.”

Vasquez exhales, tinged with disbelieving amusement. “I think this is the strangest pick-up I’ve ever had in a bar.”

“Rose Creek’s a great place to knit a broken heart, so I know from experience,” Sam says. “Why’d the two of you break up, anyhow?”

Vasquez finishes his drink as he deliberately doesn’t say that it was because John had been _so_ ambitious and had wanted Vasquez to follow in his footsteps. Vasquez is happy to spend a hard day at work, take his golden retriever out for a run at night, spend some time cooking before unwinding. He has simple ambitions, but they hadn’t matched what John wanted.

“That’s something you ask a man a few months after you know him,” is his reply, when Sam still looks at him like he’s expecting an answer. Must be the sheriff in him, refusing to let go of a bone. “Your vet, he going to care that you’re replacing him?”

“Maybe,” Sam admits, “but it’s not fair to expect him to deal with this. If you feel bad, you can ask him to assist.”

“I’ll bring in staff when I need the extra help. Nurses, anaesthesiologists,” he says, brain already rambling along with the possibilities. “How much will you pay?”

Sam slides across a napkin with a figure written on it. With the room and board, it will be a good year to recuperate and lick his wounds. True, he’ll be far away from his friends, but most of them had been John’s friends to begin with and he’s not sure he’s ready to put up with nothing but pity every time he sees them.

“I have to give a speech tomorrow morning so I wouldn’t be able to leave right away,” Vasquez says, but he already knows his decision. From the knowing smirk on Sam’s lips, it looks like the other man knows that he has him, too. It’s only January, but this is not the new years’ resolution that he’d made. That had been him in sweatpants and hoodie, miserably eating ice cream and vowing that he wasn’t going to get his heart broken this year.

Apparently, he hadn’t counted on job offers in the Midwest to shake that up.

“I’m sorry,” he adds, realizing he hasn’t said it to Sam yet, “about your condition.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Sam chides mildly, with no reproach in his tone. “Just say you’ll officially take up my offer and do something about it. Next man who approaches you in this bar probably won’t have nearly as good an offer to make you.”

Vasquez doesn’t feel like he needs to point out that _no one_ will have an offer like this. In fact, he’s still somewhat in disbelief that it’s genuine. He thinks that it won’t be real until he pulls into this town and sees the clinic and the people. “You sure I’m not dreaming?”

Sam chuckles and leans forward to scribble the address and zip code on the same napkin as the job offer, tapping it a few times before he tucks it into Vasquez’s front pocket. 

“It’s a good offer, but once you meet some of the people in town, you might not be so keen to stay. Last doctor we had, he took off after a bad breakup.”

“So now you’re trying the opposite? Lure someone in after one?” Vasquez jokes.

“Why not?” Sam quips. “Got nothing to lose. Hopefully, I’ll see you around. My number,” he says, adding a business card to the napkin. “Hope to see you around town soon. Maybe if you decide to look elsewhere, you could at least send me a recommendation on someone as good as you.”

Vasquez takes the napkin and business card and murmurs his agreement that he’ll think about it.

That night, he doesn’t sleep very much. He thinks of that empty apartment he’d be going home to. He curls Cora, his dog, into his arms and thinks about how it’s been lonely on the road. He thinks about the big city ambitions that John had, how Vasquez hadn’t wanted any of them. The next morning, he gives his speech to a half-empty room, the snowstorm having kept a lot of the locals away and hangovers probably stealing the rest. By the time he’s eating lunch, he’s made his decision.

 _I’m in_ , he texts Sam. _I’ll text your treatment regiment later. Don’t think you’re getting off easy with me._

“Can I get a glass of champagne?” he asks the passing waiter, feeling a little dizzy and in disbelief, but sure that he needs to celebrate. For better or worse, he’s just made a huge decision and he doubts his life will be very predictable for the next twelve months.

Good, he decides. It’s about time he shook things up.

He doesn’t leave a message with the ex-boyfriend, but he texts to let him know that he’ll be by to pick up his things and then they won’t ever have to see each other again. The feeling of sheer relief he feels when he sends the message is a sign enough that he’s making the right decision, even if it’s more impulsive than he’s ever been before.

Time for a change, Vasquez decides. He thinks that once the panic of the impulse decision wears off, that relief will take over and he’ll feel nothing but. Rose Creek, he thinks. Here he comes.

* * *

## FEBRUARY

“So, is it true?” 

Emma joins the tight little circle to close the ranks of their group. The little town church has been decked out with pink and red hearts, tables laden down with candy treats as children run around infused with sugar from their treats, glitter smearing their fingertips. Near the corner (and more accurately, near the cash bar), Emma joins in with Goodnight, Billy, Matthew, and Faraday to discuss the newest rumors. 

“You mean the part where Sam finally found a sucker willing to come in and replace me?” Faraday drinks heavily at that, shaking his head.

With a roll of her eyes (echoed by Matthew and Billy both), Emma gives Faraday a dubious look. “You do know that if you were still the town doctor, you’d have needed to give your mother a _full exam_ at some point, right? Why’re you so sour about this? Besides, I hear he’s dreamy.”

“Should I be worried?” Matthew asks warily.

“No, you’re _delectable_ ,” Goodnight drawls.

“Goody,” Billy chides. “He’s clearly scrumptious.”

“Jesus, I hate feeling like a fifth wheel around you assholes,” Faraday complains with another long pull of his drink. “I never feel so single as I do when you’re around.” He sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth, which Emma tries to soothe with a palm to his back, rubbing circles. She thinks about setting him up with Teddy again, but the first time she tried that, it didn’t go over so well.

She knows better than to joke about setting him up with the new doctor, given what happened last time, but that doesn’t mean that she intends to let Faraday languish in singles hell forever. 

“Look,” Emma says, pointing as subtly as she can through the crowd to where a newcomer has arrived. She tips her head to study the man as he enters, watching how he instantly helps little old Mrs. Connelly with setting her cane by the door and smiles so warmly that she suspects it could melt a glacier. “Oh, he’s adorable,” she can’t help noting.

“We got ourselves a do-gooder Mexican,” Faraday mutters grumpily into his drink, which means that he’s still clearly not over being replaced. Emma will set him right eventually with the fact that they really need a proper doctor, but she’s learned that if you don’t let Faraday have his time to sulk, it won’t go over well.

Their entire little cluster is currently staring in the direction of where the new doctor is conversing at the door, all the little old ladies in thrall over their new medical carer. 

“What do we think?” Emma asks. “Faraday, don’t speak, we know you’re being a prissy bitter bottom.”

“And here I thought he was a top,” Goody replies, sounding damn pleased with himself.

“Shut it, Robicheaux, I know what you sound like when Billy’s torturing you and no one wants those sounds to come out in this family friendly environment when I decide to make everyone aware of them.” 

While they’re bickering, Matthew slides an arm around Emma’s waist, kissing her on the cheek. He’s just as pleased that Sam’s managed to find someone after the last one took off, especially now that they’re looking to start a family. It’s why she’s glad that Faraday isn’t doing the town doctor duties, not only because she wants someone with human hospital experience in case anything goes wrong, but as one of her best friends, she does not need Joshua Faraday knowing what the pipes look like.

“You want to go say hi?” Matthew asks, while Goodnight and Faraday start arguing about more ridiculous madness that happened a decade ago when they were rooming in college together.

Emma would give anything to be rescued, at this point. “Please,” she agrees, not bothering to tell the other men that they’re leaving. At this point in the argument, they won’t even notice that they’re gone. They stroll over to where Vasquez is standing by a table that’s been decked out with red and pink candies and baked goods. Emma can’t help her amused grin as she watches some of the teen girls from the school try and foist valentines into his hands.

“Thank you very much, but I don’t have anything for you,” he says, his accent softly rolling over the words. When he glances up, he catches sight of Emma and Matthew and she doesn’t think she’s imagining the fact that there’s relief in his eyes to be approached by someone his own age for once. “Will you excuse me, girls?”

The girls giggle as they flit away, leaving their new doctor to properly meet Emma and Matthew, shaking each of their hands firmly. 

“How much do you want to hide right about now?” Matthew asks.

“On a scale of one to ten? Let’s mark it at twenty. I didn’t think Sam meant that he would bring the whole town here to meet me, but I guess he doesn’t lie. I’m Alejandro Vasquez,” he says, with a warm smile. “I think, though, you already knew that?”

That and about a dozen other facts that they’ve pulled together from the internet in their search of the man when Sam Chisolm had arrived back home to announce the town would have a doctor again. “Emma and Matthew Cullen,” she introduces for the both of them. “I know you can’t play hooky at the town’s Valentine’s Gala, what with the committee going so over the top, but how about we take you on a stroll to see what the outside of the church looks like?”

The relief on Vasquez’s face is palpable. Even for the hard of heart, Rose Creek can be an overwhelming experience, and she doesn’t fault him in the least for feeling overwhelmed. She still remembers when the last doctor had come to town, but then, McCann’s shine had worn off quickly enough to everyone but Faraday, who had stayed with him because he didn’t want to admit he’d picked a bad apple.

Emma takes hold of one of Dr. Vasquez’s arms while Matthew takes the other, escorting him outside once they’ve bundled up (and once Emma’s made about four promises that _yes_ , Dr. Vasquez will be returning later). Vasquez’s teeth chatter wildly, which is amusing, considering Sam had mentioned he’d picked up the doctor in Colorado.

“Not used to the snow?”

“I was told California is warmer than this.”

“Maybe, but we’re near the mountains,” Matthew says, amused. “By March, it’ll be warm enough again. So, Sam convinced you to give our town a try, did he?”

“For now,” Vasquez agrees. “I’m not sure if I’m going to stay, but I think it will be a good change. Everyone has seemed so warm, so friendly, so…”

“Overwhelming?” Emma interrupts with a knowing smile.

“Yes, that,” Vasquez agrees. “I think come Monday when I open the doors for the first time, it will be worse.”

She knows that he’s not wrong about that. She’s already spoken to plenty of people over the coffee bar about the list of ailments they plan to bring to the new town doctor, now that Sam has found them someone. She’s got her own to visit for, but at this point, she’s content with drug store vitamins and the peace of mind that he’ll make time for her.

“We really are pleased to have you here. Poor Faraday, he was doing a great job, but he’s still just a vet trying his best. Anything more serious, people had to drive into the city,” Emma says, knowing that Faraday is bound to sulk for a while over this, but he’ll have to get over it. Vasquez comments that he’d like to meet the man and Emma promises to introduce them.

They take another two turns around the church while Vasquez talks about his family back in Texas (a lot of sisters, he says, and proud parents), the dog he brought with him, and while he doesn’t talk too much about it, Emma catches the hint of a ‘him’ that’s no longer in the picture, which she suspects takes it to mean that Sam lured him here with promises that Rose Creek is a good place for Vasquez to nurse a broken heart. Or, maybe, he’s the one who did the leaving and he’s ready for a new start. He likes dulce de leche and coffee, which means that Emma’s the perfect woman for him to be talking to, right now. 

“Come by the shop on Monday before you head into the office. I’ll make you something that’ll get you through a long day,” she says, already thinking of the sea-salted caramel concoction she plans to give him. 

Once they do another turn of the church, they had back inside. She lets him loose in the direction of Goodnight and Billy, who have moved on to the sweets table where Billy is feeding a pink-topped cupcake to Goody. Matthew heads off to get them something to drink and when he does, Emma spends a moment wondering where Faraday drifted to.

“Well, you’re not swooning, so he can’t be that great.”

Speak of the devil. Emma crosses her arms over her chest and gives Faraday a sharp look.

“He’s not McCann,” is all that she has to say on the matter of the new doctor. “I don’t know why you’re acting like he’s personally pissed in your cereal, but he’s going to let you have a life again. I know you’ve been drowning and you don’t complain because you like playing the town’s savior, but think of all that you’ve been missing out on. I could set you up with someone?” she suggests, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

She’s been waiting for Faraday to be ready and to have time and now there’s a chance that she can finally get back to arranging a perfect world where she finds someone for Faraday and they can have the double-dates they’ve talked about for so long.

“Right, so go settle down and let someone else get all the glory and attention.”

“You need to stop it,” Emma warns firmly. “Be nice to the man, he’s only here to help.”

“I’ll be nice when I want to be nice,” Faraday grumbles, which usually means that she needs to liquor him up to get some manners out of him.

Nearby, Vasquez is laughing heavily at something Goodnight’s said, his shoulders shaking much to Billy’s faint amusement. Emma feels a warm surge of something, like she’s getting the sense that something is clicking in the right way. She knows that it’s early days, but she needs to know that they’ve got a doctor who’s going to fit in and she’s no different than the rest of the town right now, so eager to impress.

She’s got a personal reason, of course, but Faraday doesn’t need to know that.

“If you give him a chance, I bet you’d like him.”

“Yeah, well, look how well that happened last time,” Faraday says, his voice heavy with the reminder of the grief he’s still carrying in his heart. “I won’t piss him off or drive him out of town, but I’m not going to end up his best friend. Okay?”

Emma thinks that the friendly man she’d walked with just now will be hard to resist, but deferring to Faraday’s stubborn insistence, she raises her hands and nods her head to accept that she’ll take him at his word. Lucky for her, Matthew returns then with a glass of cranberry juice for her, giving her the opportunity to escape Faraday’s maudlin sulk.

“Don’t forget to go pick up your Valentines,” she teases. “Someone might have a crush on you, you know.”

“You made me one, didn’t you?” Faraday deadpans.

“Glitter and all,” she agrees, without shame. She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, wiping away the stray lipstick, before she and Matthew head over to join in the group with Goodnight, Billy, and her brand new friend, the town doctor. 

She spares one last glance to see Faraday slipping out of the door while the party is still going and while it hurts her heart to see him dealing so poorly with this new change, it’s also not something she’s ready to deal with at this very moment. She’ll manage to bring Faraday around, she thinks, somehow. 

Maybe it’ll just take time. Lucky for them, they’ve got plenty of that.

* * *

## MARCH

Faraday is in the middle of invoice-induced boredom, doing his best to stop himself from drifting off to sleep. He’s been working since the early morning with a few appointments, one emergency, and one ‘I swear my turtle needs a new shell’ that required way too much explanation that turtles are not _crabs_ to a seven-year-old. It’s past nine and he’s been working late to catch up on some of the billing because if his manager pesters him one more damn time about the fact that they haven’t got enough to pay the bills, then he’s firing her.

Of course, he’d hire her back right away because he’s useless without an office manager to run his schedule and keep the office standing. He’s been signing them until the monotony of it nearly put him to sleep, right up until the knock on the front door nearly sends him into an early heart attack.

“I swear to god,” he says, catching his breath and being grateful he didn’t actually fall off his chair. “I’m gonna kill whoever that is.”

He wanders to the front door warily, peering through the blinds to see Dr. Vasquez standing there with a panicked look on his face and an armful of golden retriever. When Faraday sees how lethargic the dog is, he slams right into business-mode, unlatching the door and pointing to the nearest exam room. The irritation at being interrupted and the residual bitterness about it being Vasquez fades away in the face of his job.

“There, get her in there,” he says, following after Vasquez as he sets the dog on the bed, stroking her with panicked affection. Faraday yanks his stethoscope from the wall to give her heart a listen, pleased when he doesn’t hear anything irregular. “What symptoms is she showing?”

“I got back home, she was stumbling around. She walked into a wall, her eyes haven’t been steady, and there’s been redness and swelling…” Vasquez is rambling, clearly panicked as he tightens his fingers in the dog’s coat.

“Hey,” Faraday interrupts, reaching out to rest his hand over top of Vasquez’s where he can gently squeeze and pry it away from the fur. He needs access to the dog without Vasquez getting in the way. Privately, he thinks to himself that while Vasquez might’ve taken over Faraday’s side-gig, it doesn’t look like Vasquez plans on moonlighting as a vet anytime soon.

He wishes he didn’t feel so triumphant about that, but he does. 

“What’s her name?” he asks, like Vasquez hasn’t already been by to register the dog for new tags. He knows the name of every single pet in this town, makes it a point of pride to remember, but he needs to keep Vasquez talking.

“Coraima,” Vasquez says. “Cora.” 

Faraday gives Vasquez an encouraging smile, noting the panic in every feature on his face. He almost feels bad that the man rushed down here for something that’s going to end up being such an easy treatment, but he’s seen worse. He still remembers the time Mrs. Connelly brought in her terrier because he had started to lose his hair.

He’ll never forget having to explain the concept of shedding to a grown woman.

“Well, good news for Cora,” Faraday says, rummaging through his cabinets until he comes up with the drops that he’s after. He digs out a bottle of pills, checks the expiry date, and hands those to Vasquez. “She’s got an ear infection. Nasty one, by the looks of it,” he admits, after he takes a peek, “but we’ll get her on the drops, pop a few pills into her water, and she’ll be good as new.”

Vasquez slumps forward, reaching back to find a seat before he collapses into it. This is the first time that Faraday’s been alone with the man, but it’s also the first time that he hasn’t seen him with that ever-present smile plastered on his face and looking so unflappably charming and smooth. 

It looks like the man’s human after all. Faraday can’t help but feel pleased about that, despite the fact that he’s probably a mean son of a bitch to be thinking these things.

“I would never have heard the end of it from him if I let her get sick after I left,” Vasquez mumbles under his breath. He doesn’t seem keen to talk about this _him_ more, though, turning a weary look up towards Faraday. “Thank you. I feel like all I’ve been doing is work, that I never see her. I should have noticed this sooner,” he keeps going, clearly blaming himself.

Faraday wants to keep hating this guy, he really does.

It’s not his fault Sam decided Faraday wasn’t good enough right on the heels of his ex-boyfriend deciding the same thing, taking off for bigger and better pastures. He knows, rationally, that it’s bad timing that Vasquez is filling that old role and worse that he’s been doing such a good job of it. Faraday’s mother has been raving about Dr. Vasquez’s bedside manners and dreamy looks, which almost makes him inclined to warn Vasquez that his mother might be after him.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Faraday says, because no matter what differences he has with Vasquez – that definitely aren’t returned, seeing as Vasquez has been nothing but polite to him – at the end of a long day, a strong drink is something Faraday can definitely get behind.

Vasquez looks like he’s a man who agrees.

“You know a bar that lets dogs in?” He’s clearly not willing to let Cora go far, but lucky for him, he doesn’t have to.

Faraday reaches down into one of the cabinets where a bar fridge stores some of the medicine they keep on hand. Behind it, in the back, there’s a six-pack of beers, ready for a day like today. He holds it up with a proud look on his face, like smuggling beer into the office when you’re the boss is somehow an actual accomplishment.

Judging by the relief that befalls Vasquez’s face, having them ready had definitely been worth it.

“I guess everyone’s been working you ragged, huh?” 

Faraday’s cleaning up his hands after he hands a bottle opener to Vasquez, letting him take care of getting the drinks ready. He tries to get some empathy in his voice, rather than allowing the bitterness of, ‘you took over something that used to be mine’ into his voice.

It’s ridiculous because on a logical level, Faraday knows that he’s not the right kind of doctor, he’ll never be able to treat people the way that Vasquez can, but it still stings and burns. On the heels of another type of rejection, it’s not exactly something he’s well-equipped to cope with.

“Yes, but, there is no excuse,” Vasquez says firmly, handing an opened bottle to Faraday. He takes the little bowl of water that Faraday had poured, bending down to set it at Cora’s feet, sliding one of the pills into the bowl to let it dissolve before he whispers something to her in low, affectionate Spanish to encourage her to drink. “I’m not as busy as I was when I had rounds at the hospital, but…”

There’s an awkward pause, something that Faraday’s not sure he wants to interrupt given Vasquez’s uneasy look.

“But?” Faraday prods, when that stubbornly curious side of him demands to know.

“It wasn’t always just me,” Vasquez finishes. “There were two of us and if I was working, then he could watch her.”

 _He_ , Faraday latches onto, imagining that this is the ‘he’ that would also never let Vasquez live it down if something happened to the dog. Damn it all for Vasquez having an issue that Faraday can sympathize with. He really didn’t want to feel anything but bitterness at him for a little while longer, but he doesn’t see that happening now that Vasquez has opened up enough to know that the two of them look to be in the same boat.

“He coming to join you?” Faraday asks, as if Vasquez hasn’t already been in town two months and is living in a small studio apartment alone.

Vasquez’s icy glare is answer enough, but he says, “We were broken up before I got the offer. Moving to a small town like this, it’s the last thing in the world he ever wanted to do.”

Fucking hell, Faraday can empathize. 

“Did anyone tell you about the last doctor we had?” He’s already had half the bottle of beer and he’s nowhere near tipsy, but damn if he doesn’t feel like he needs to rant about this with someone who gets what being freshly broken up feels like.

Vasquez shakes his head, so it seems that either the town is falling down on their gossip talents, or they’ve all decided not to even broach the topic of leaving with the new doctor because they’re afraid it might spook him by even mentioning the possibility that he doesn’t have to stay.

“McCann,” Faraday says, with as much spite as he can pour into his voice. “He was a real asshole,” he says, able to freely admit this now that he’s not in Faraday’s life anymore and damn does it feel good to be able to talk this much shit about the man. “I mean, he was decent enough to me, but turns out it was because he thought I was the only one in his class. Hot enough, successful enough,” he rants, “and don’t you know it, but as soon as some rich real estate mogul comes through town and sees the good work he’s doing, he offers McCann a high salary to be a private doctor. Bastard packed up and left without more than a ‘see you later’.” He’s pissed on behalf of the town, pissed for himself, and pissed that he hadn’t dumped the man when it became clear how shitty he was.

Faraday’s still beating himself up over that, and he’s definitely going into his next relationship with Sam doing at least a background check.

“I knew there was someone before,” Vasquez admits, still absently stroking Cora’s fur. “I didn’t know he was your…”

“Yeah, well, I’m not making that mistake again,” Faraday promises, finishing his beer and setting the empty bottle on top of the pile of invoices, swearing when he sees the ring of a stain that starts. Moving it swiftly, he rolls his chair over to Cora’s side, placing him right beside Vasquez.

He leans over to check on Cora’s vitals. She still seems a little dazed and she’s scratching her ear, but she looks better. Faraday makes a mental note to get them back for a follow-up during the regular hours of business, but for now, he’s good with tending to her in the quiet of the evening. Reaching for a second beer, he notices that Vasquez hasn’t taken more than a sip or two.

“You know you don’t have to pack the whole town into visits every day,” he feels compelled to offer some advice. It’s not his business how Vasquez runs the practice, but the man looks like he’s been run ragged and exhausted, which means that he’s liable to burn out if he’s not careful. 

“I’m new, remember? I need extra time for each patient. I know you know them inside and out, but I need more time to know things, it’s not so easy…”

Faraday surprises himself by saying what he does next when Vasquez trails off, his shoulders slumped forward with weariness.

“I could help you with that.”

“What?”

 _What_ , indeed. If Vasquez is struggling so much, Faraday should be sitting back and being smugly pleased with that, but seeing him here with his dog looking so tired and feeling guilty over missing her problems, he knows that even he’s not that much of an ass.

“I did that job for a while before you got here,” he says, trying to brush this off as casual. “I could, you know, help you out. You could come around, have a beer and bring the patient files. I’ll help with the histories, offer a second opinion from someone who’s seen a few of the cases. Obviously, I didn’t do the important stuff, but broken limbs, sprains, burns, that sort of thing? Yeah, I could help with that if you wanted,” Faraday says.

He drinks to hide the fact that he feels embarrassed to have brought any of this up, but it turns out that he doesn’t have to worry about the offer going wrong.

Vasquez has lit up with sheer relief and delight, that smile of his coming back out. Someone had once said that when Vasquez smiled, you felt like the sun was peeking out of the clouds and until now, Faraday didn’t exactly understand that. Now, he feels something swoop in his chest to see that smile directed at him and only him.

“I’d like that,” Vasquez agrees with a nod of his head. “Can Cora come?” he asks jokingly, as the dog lifts her head and gives Faraday a baleful look.

“Sure,” he agrees, wondering just what the hell he’s managed to get himself into. “We’ll make a night of it. Beers, cases, and we’ll fit Cora’s checkups into the time. Sound good?”

Vasquez is still grinning at him, that worn look vanished from his eyes, looking bright and optimistic again – like all the other times that Faraday has seen him. “Sounds perfect.”

To Faraday, it sounds like he’s just helping a guy out. It looks like he’s not going to be able to keep holding a grudge much longer, not if he intends to actually get to know Vasquez. Given that he’s had a chance to get the know the man a little, he supposes he can let go of his bitterness little by little.

It’s only for the good of the town, of course.

Never mind that it’s probably better for him not to sit here and obsess, but Faraday’s never been good at seeing what’s right in front of his nose. It’s all just for the town, that’s it.

 _Obviously_.

* * *

## APRIL

Faraday’s got no damn idea why he’s come around to Emma’s bakery again, staring at the top shelf of liquor-infused pastries like he needs at least a dozen of them. He’s been feeling off for about a month and he’s hesitant to put a finger on it. Well, that’s not true. He knows exactly what the hell is bothering him, but how the hell is he supposed to tell anyone about it? 

_Sorry I still feel bitter about the handsome new talented doctor swanning into town and becoming the help that you all needed. Sorry this is dredging up old wounds that are re-opening because it started out promising last time too._

At the heart of his issues, there’s one thing that’s bugging him more than the rest, and that’s the fact that him being replaced implies that Faraday hadn’t been good enough. Obviously, he hadn’t been, he’s a vet, but at the same time, it’s not like Sam going off and finding someone else felt good. More than that, it rubs him the wrong way that every conversation has been about Vasquez lately. All that people seem to care about is pleasing the good doctor so that he stays in town and maybe Faraday is just selfish enough to miss the attention and the gratitude he used to get for going out of his way to do the same job.

He doesn’t even dislike the man, it’s just that he’s _everywhere_ , and Faraday doesn’t know what to do with that. Worse, Faraday has a bad feeling that he’s only resisting because he knows that once he gives in, he’ll be just as much of a lost cause as everyone else. Vasquez is incredibly easy on the eyes, the ears, and Faraday could lose hours to watching the way his hands work.

“Stare at them any more and I’m charging you for the way your eyes are licking them,” Emma warns, coming out from the back and wiping her hands on a towel. “Are you here to eat away your feelings again?”

He scowls and wishes that Emma wasn’t his best friend and that she couldn’t read him so damn easily. That’s what you get when you know someone on a near-intimate level since you were seven. He’d been there when she became valedictorian, had watched her go through college and meet Matthew. She’d been at his side through his exams, his last two disastrous boyfriends, and now she’s here to see him through his displacement as Town Saviour, while that title gets handed to someone else.

Then, he feels even worse because he remembers the look of naked gratitude on Vasquez’s handsome face the night he’d brought Cora in to get treatment. The butterflies in his stomach start fluttering a little and he tells them to go _away_ , because the last town doctor he fell for bolted just as soon as things got serious.

That’s not history that Faraday aims to repeat.

“Are you really still sulking?” Emma demands, serving up a few of the pastries that Faraday had been eyeing, with no comment about him paying her. She wipes her hands on her apron and points to the nearest table. “Take those, go, sit.”

That’s her ‘I’m not fucking around’ voice, which means that Faraday better listen unless he wants to get in trouble.

Faraday trudges over with his coffee and the pastries to settle at the table, watching Emma pour herself a glass of water, settling opposite him at the table. For a long moment, he stares at her and she stares back, the both of them trying to win a sudden staring contest. He refuses to break and he can’t help the childish ‘hah!’ he lets out when she looks away. Emma rolls her eyes and Faraday is ready to tell her that she’d accepted his friendship and can’t turn back now, when she opens her mouth and looks ready to speak.

She also looks nervous, which is strange. Emma Cullen doesn’t do nervous.

“Look, are you still upset about this whole ‘being replaced’ business?”

It’s partly that. “Little bit,” he grumbles. “Little bit of it is that the last doctor who came into town looked good on paper, but turned out to be a giant asshole and I didn’t see it until it was too late and he’d stomped all over my dick and heart. Then he’s gone and I pick up the slack and it…it felt good,” he says. 

“You always did love playing savior,” Emma accuses fondly.

“So, yeah, it stings that some new guy is here and no one cares about me anymore. It’s even worse than that to see everyone falling over their damn feet to get him to stay. No one ever treated me with that kind of enthusiasm.”

This is the part where she loses sympathy, which is clear from the look on her face.

“You know we need a doctor, a real one,” she says firmly.

“Yeah, I …”

“Because I know you don’t want a pregnant lady driving an hour and a half just for her appointments and I am damn sure the last thing you want is to see what things look like in your best friend’s private areas.”

Faraday’s eyes widen when Emma finishes her bold declaration, pointing to her, then lower to her stomach. He knows he should say something, but damn if words aren’t failing him right now.

Also, in one single sentence, Emma has managed to make him feel _grateful_ that he’s not the town’s doctor anymore. Never mind treating his mother’s smaller ailments, there is no way in hell that he wants to be the one delivering that baby. He can handle animal births, but people? He’s pretty sure no one needs Faraday fainting all over the floor.

Emma keeps looking at him expectantly. “Cat got your tongue?” she teases.

“You didn’t even tell me that you two were trying,” Faraday finally latches onto something, managing to get petulant about something else. Soon after, though, Faraday starts to behave, giving Emma a delighted look before he’s on his feet to grab her into a tight embrace, kissing her cheek and only releasing her when she starts making little noises about not being able to breathe. “Congrats, Ems,” Faraday says, genuinely pleased for her.

“So, now you see why I was after Sam to go fetch us a real doctor? I’ve got all the faith in the world in you when it comes to four-legged creatures and winged things, but I want someone with some surgical experience on humans working with us when the time comes.”

Faraday is still bowled over by the news that it takes him a second to realize that he’s actually feeling better for the first time in days.

“Well? Is that helping you?”

“Little bit,” Faraday admits. It doesn’t mean that she’s gone and solved all his issues with that announcement. Even though he’s happy not to be the one in charge of that when Emma needs her help, it doesn’t change what happened last time. 

It doesn’t change the fact that he’s chopped liver now that there’s a shiny new doctor in town.

“Is it about McCann? I promise, no one is going to insist that you date this one to keep him around,” Emma vows, as if she already knows that something is in the works, but apparently they think that just because they’re not roping Faraday into it, that it means it’s fine. “Look, so McCann was an asshole who…”

“I really, really don’t want to talk about this,” Faraday cuts her off. “Especially when we’re sober.” Isn’t it handy, then, that Emma can’t get drunk for the next eight months or so and Faraday won’t have to discuss it.

She levels a look on him that says he’s being an idiot, but Faraday doesn’t see what’s so wrong with not wanting to spill open all the broken pieces of his heart so that everyone in town can get a good look at the sucker who didn’t know any better. Emma’s belief that Faraday needs to talk about this to get over it is ridiculous. Besides, he doesn’t mention that he and Vasquez have been talking about it a little during their little Friday night sessions.

Handing him a pre-packaged, pre-wrapped box of pastries, she shakes her head at him, fondly. 

“When are you going to let me set you up with someone decent?”

That’s another can of worms that he’s not ready for. “How about you have that baby and you get all the free babysitting you want because I clearly have no life anymore outside of our group hangouts,” he suggests, probably overly maudlin about his romantic future, but right now, it feels like that. He takes the box of desserts, wishing that he didn’t know he was planning to eat them all within the next few hours, but, why deny the truth?

“Thanks,” he says, giving her another hug before he leaves, trying not to think about how his friends are so settled and content. Goodnight and Billy are married, Emma and Matthew are having a baby. Meanwhile, Faraday is pushing thirty-two, got dumped six months ago, and the only prospect on his horizon is finishing a box of pastries in record breaking time.

Still, when he leaves Emma’s, he feels a little better about the fact that he’s not in the position to have to deliver any babies and some of that residual bitterness about Vasquez taking over his place is gone. Of course, because his luck isn’t great these days, he gets home to find his mother has let herself in and has started fussing around his place, cleaning it up.

“Ma,” Faraday complains. “How many times have I told you, I’ve got a system for how I keep my things!”

“Chaos is no system,” she chides. “Besides, I didn’t know you were out. We need to talk about the new doctor.”

Sometimes, Faraday wonders if there are any conversations that happen in Rose Creek anymore that don’t feature Vasquez. Of course, given the fact that he’s only just come around to giving up his job to the man, it only figures that his mother is here to reinforce the bitterness that everyone is so focused and attentive on someone else. Without bothering to hide it in his own house, he scowls freely, causing his mother to grab his chin, giving him a stern look.

“It’ll freeze this way,” she warns. “Some of the girls tell me that you’ve been helping him out with the case files, says he doesn’t really socialize all that much other than that. That means _you’re_ going to help me figure out what he likes to keep him in town.”

They tried this with McCann too, so Faraday knows exactly what’s coming next, even without Emma’s forewarning from earlier. Only, last time, he’d been the unfortunate sucker who got roped into dating the man. “You know that doesn’t work,” is his dark reply, seeing as a relationship hadn’t stopped McCann from taking a higher profile job and a better salary.

“This new one isn’t the same,” his mother replies archly, like she just _knows_. “Well? What’s his type? We could set him up with one of Emma’s friends. Do you think he and Luisa would get along well?”

Faraday is in the middle of trying to unpack the damage his mother’s fussing and arranging has done, moving his pillows and shifting his things back to their actual place, not sure he wants to give her any help. He also knows that his refusal to help doesn’t mean she’ll top. If he doesn’t help, she’ll probably go straight to the source and won’t that be an embarrassment for everyone involved?

Digging his shoes out of the closet, he shakes his head and gives her a long-suffering look. “Men,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“Luisa won’t do anything for him,” Faraday advises. “He’s gay.” Not bisexual, because that had been a topic that came up during one of their sessions, when they’d been discussing a little bit of their personal lives, having strayed from some topic that Faraday can’t even recall. Vasquez had confessed that growing up, he’d seen being gay go from a big secret to something he could feel fine about. 

Faraday’s always swung both ways, but he understands, a little. He’d told Vasquez as much, the moment between them feeling like they were forging connections, private ones, that no one else really understood.

His mother seems to seize on that with a delighted smirk that says that she’s making _plans_. “Ma, just…” 

Faraday doesn’t even know what he wants to say, but he thinks it goes along the lines of, ‘please don’t let anyone else get hurt the way I did’, but that’s not up to him, is it? If Vasquez wants to get together with someone here and then bolt, that’s not on him. He’s just not getting involved, because he can’t do that again.

“I’m only going to set him up on some casual dates,” his mother insists. “If he turns out to like someone well enough that he stays to see what happens, then we all benefit.”

That doesn’t exactly sound like a ringing endorsement to Faraday, who’s the physical embodiment of what happens when the best-laid plans of overinvested townsfolk go wrong. The sour look on his face isn’t exactly very encouraging, but he also knows that his mother won’t stop just because her son got screwed over last time by the town’s plans.

“I’ll start to look at the single men his age,” she says, which is frightening because his mother with a plan is a terrifying thing. “If things look like they’re going bad, I’ll stop. Until then…” She rests her hands on her hips, drawing up to her full five-foot-six height, “well, Joshua, this town needs a proper doctor who wants to stay. Let’s give him a reason to.”

Faraday tells himself that the sick feeling in his stomach is because he’s worried about history repeating itself. What he’s ignoring is the part where he’s also worried about history varying and Vasquez actually finding happiness with someone _else_ in town. It’ll be just another example of Faraday not being good enough, which he’s not keen on repeating.

Swallowing back that bitter pill, Faraday tries to pretend that he’s okay with all of this. “Good luck with that, Ma,” he says, trying to mean it, but the idea of this going well makes his heart ache like McCann has left him all over again.

It'll get better with time, he tells himself. 

Until that heals, he’ll let his mother get away with whatever antics she feels is her rightful duty to pull off in the name of Rose Creek keeping its new young talent.

* * *

## MAY

After the crisis with Cora in March, Vasquez had started coming over on a weekly basis for a drink when Faraday’s at the office late. One thing that Faraday isn’t willing to admit, at this point, is that he’s started to stay late on purpose just so that when Vasquez comes knocking at the door, he’s there when he has no actual reason to have these sessions so late at night when it’s only the two of them there.

He’s also started to buy Vasquez’s favorite beer to keep in the fridge, has turned down invites to go out, and most tellingly, he’s said no to a few offers for a few matchmaking opportunities that Emma keeps floating his way.

Faraday tells himself that it’s not a big deal, that he’s just getting to know a new friend and it so happens that Vasquez is one of the few people who can understand what Faraday’s been through. When they crack open the first round this particular Friday, Vasquez actually says as much. “I don’t know how you did it,” he admits, but there’s no reproach or disbelief in his voice so much as respect. “Some days, I want to pull out my hair with all the maladies this town has, and you…”

Faraday drinks and keeps his head bowed low, trying not to react or give anything away. The flush in his cheeks damns him, though. 

“You did all of that and you still ran your practice,” Vasquez finishes, shaking his head. “ _Guerito_ , I’m impressed. Mrs. Grant’s gout alone nearly had me checking into bus tickets out of town today.”

“She showed you the foot, huh?”

“So much of her foot,” Vasquez agrees while making a face.

If ever there’s a time for Faraday to bring up the fact that he’d _loved_ doing that, now is it. He’s known Vasquez for a few months now and he’d even go so far as to say that they’re friends, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for him to admit how he’d felt when Vasquez had first breezed into town, overly confident and cocky and charming (not to mention handsome) without much of a care for the status quo he was displacing.

“I miss it like crazy, you know,” Faraday admits. “I’ve always been a volunteer firefighter, so I had the EMT basics down and the vet part means that I had a general idea of what to do, but helping people like that…” He shakes his head, recalling some of the thanks he’d received. “It meant more because I was going out of my way to do it.”

Vasquez is listening, not interrupting, and when Faraday trails off slightly, Vasquez merely gives him an encouraging nod to keep going.

“Nothing against you, but I kind of hated you when you got here,” Faraday says, almost surprised to hear himself voice those words out loud.

Vasquez doesn’t look insulted, though. If anything, he almost looks _relieved_. “I think you were the only one. It got very exhausting, with people putting me on a pedestal. They all expect me to be something that I don’t think I am. I’m an okay general practitioner and a good surgeon, but most people need the former, not the latter. I don’t want to disappoint anyone and I think that people look at me with heavy expectations. Hearing that you didn’t have them…” He gives Faraday a crooked, bemused smile. “Still hate me?”

“Yup,” Faraday agrees readily, heavily sarcastic as he pops the ‘p’ in that. “I spend every Friday night with someone I hate, buying his favorite beers for him.”

Maybe he shouldn’t point out how out of his way he’s gone to make sure that Vasquez is entertained, but Vasquez chuckles and doesn’t seem to comment about the fact that Faraday has been rearranging his life to make sure this happens the way it does. 

“I didn’t come here to replace you,” Vasquez says, when he’s finally done chuckling at Faraday’s joke. “Sam mentioned that you were helping, but he said that the town needed an actual doctor. I thought you were just a solution in the interim. If he told me how much you loved it, I would’ve come to you first,” he promises. “You would have been the first person in town I would have come to see and shake your hand.”

He reaches out, then, fingers slowly trailing over Faraday’s palm. At the delicate touch, Faraday’s heart starts to kick up in speed, his eyes widening as he stares at Vasquez, wondering what the hell is happening. It becomes clear soon enough as Vasquez slides his thumb under Faraday’s palm to turn it, clasping him by the hand to shake it firmly.

That hand lingers for a few seconds and Faraday stares down at the rise of Vasquez’s knuckles, overwhelmed with the dizzy need to press kisses to them, trailing those kisses up the line of his long arm, suck a mark into Vasquez’s neck and…

Closing his eyes, Faraday sheds the fantasy from his mind as quickly as he can. He squeezes Vasquez’s hand and then lets go, not willing to go down this road again. No matter what he feels or thinks he wants, he needs more time to get over how screwed he got last time.

“Are you still bitter?”

Is he? It’s a good question and one that Faraday has to actually take a moment to consider. “I don’t think so. I mean, I know that you’re not some perfect doctor and that you need help. I know I didn’t want to be treating Emma’s pregnancy or doing some of the outpatient surgeries you do,” he confesses. “I still get my first aid rush when I’m working with the fire-team as their EMT…” He trails off, finishing his beer as he realizes that no, he’s not bitter about this anymore.

“What about the other doctor? McCann? You still bitter about him?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop being bitter about that,” Faraday says sharply. 

“We can talk about him,” Vasquez offers, sounding unsure, like he’s not really convinced that Faraday wants to share. The thing is, apart from the first few nights when he’d ranted and raved to Emma, he hasn’t had a chance to really get into the issue of McCann past a few insults and bitter comments.

Why not here?

“For that, we need another drink,” Faraday warns, digging out another six-pack and polishing off the last few ounces of his beer so he can get started on the next. Unwilling to be outdone, Vasquez reaches over for one, too, which means they’re both on their fourth of the evening. Faraday makes a mental note to make sure that Vasquez gets home fine later, but seeing as Cora is napping on his feet, he trusts the dog will get him home safe. “When he first turned up, he was a lot like you. I mean, the whole charming and clever thing.”

“Not Mexican?”

“No, American-style bastard,” Faraday grumbles. “My mother knew that I was looking for someone, that I was maybe a little lonely, so she set me up with him on a blind date. It wasn’t so bad,” he says, which was the best you could say about McCann in those early days.

 _He hadn’t been awful_.

“I mean, he was okay at his job. He never went out of his way to do anything, but he was decent. Had to be, for Bogue to come in and offer him that personal physician spot. Only, he had some pretty assholish opinions about women and immigrants…” Eyeing Vasquez up and down, he thinks that McCann would’ve hated him. “By the time his true colors came to light, I was already living with him.”

“You could’ve left,” Vasquez points out. “You’re better than that.”

“Lonely, remember? I figured it’d get better or he’d get easier to deal with. Instead, it only got worse and then he gets this offer from Bogue and leaves with about two sentences worth of a warning.” Tipping his head back to drink the rest of his beer, he feels like it’s nowhere near strong enough for the conversation topic. “Worst part is, I thought maybe I could get through to him. Make him a better man, you know?”

“You can’t make an asshole not an asshole,” Vasquez opines. “Still, I’m sorry that you had to deal with that.”

“Yeah, me too,” Faraday agrees, wondering how it is that almost six months after Vasquez turned up, he’s managed to get Faraday to lay out pretty much all of his issues and to somehow also feel _better_ after he’s done that. 

Vasquez reaches forward to settle his empty bottles of beer neatly on the table, his fingers brushing against Faraday’s knees when he makes that movement. Faraday holds still as a statue, careful not to encourage anything.

He knows that Vasquez isn’t McCann, the intervening months between his arrival and now have proven that, but it doesn’t mean Faraday’s ready to dive into anything.

“You deserve…” Vasquez exhales, whatever words he’d been about to say vanish. He’s leaning forward and looking up at Faraday from his leaned-over position, a somewhat forlorn look in his eyes. “You deserve someone who’s going to stick around.”

Faraday doesn’t ask what that _means_ , just turns back to the safe topic of the case files and a recap of what patients Vasquez has seen this week and what history and diagnoses Faraday might have given them.

An hour later, Vasquez finally makes his excuse to leave. They’re both tipsy enough that Faraday is grateful he’s only walking the short distance back to his apartment and he’s already asked three times if Vasquez is good to walk, but he’s persistent that he doesn’t need Faraday to walk him home. When they get to the door to lock up, Vasquez is swaying a little, staring at Faraday with a fond look, the earnest happiness plain on his face. “What?” Faraday asks, when Vasquez won’t stop staring.

“I just was thinking how grateful I am,” he admits. “Everyone here is so tight-knit to each other, so close, and I really feel like an outsider. People need my services, of course, they come all day, but you’re the only one who asks me how my day was. I think you’re the best friend I’ve had in years, I can’t say how much I appreciate it,” he says, sounding half-surprised by what he’s saying.

Faraday’s heart feels like it’s being tightened in a vise, strangled by feelings that he’s been trying so desperately to ignore.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” says Vasquez, only making it worse.

He’s not doing this again, he is _not_ making this mistake again. Besides that, his mother’s in the process of trying to fix Vasquez up in some elaborately romantic arrangement that’s poised to keep him in town.

“Maybe we should move these sessions to the bar,” Faraday says, no matter how much it hurts to suggest ending their private arrangement. “I could bring Goody and the others around, introduce you to some more people. Everyone adores you, Vasquez. We just gotta make them see you as more than the town doc.”

“Alejo,” he says.

“What?” Faraday is just tipsy enough to feel a little off his guard and missed that.

“My name’s Alejo, you should use that. It’s what my good friends call me.”

“Well, then, I’m Josh,” he replies in turn, extending his hand like they’re meeting properly for the first time. “Good to meet you, Alejo. Now, I know you’re new here, but everyone would fall over their feet to be your friend if you gave them a chance. How about you come out to the bar on Fridays and we’ll start working on making sure you’re not so lonely.”

Instead of looking pleased, though, Vasquez’s brow is furrowed and he looks like he’s upset about something. It’s safer for Faraday, though, because it means that whatever is between them will get a cool-down before things get too messy and Faraday ends up with his heart broken again, potentially in ways he doesn’t know how to heal. 

“Okay,” finally, Vasquez agrees. “We’ll go to the bar instead.”

Faraday lets out a sigh of relief.

Figures that it doesn’t last long, because as Vasquez bends to clip Cora’s leash to her collar, he gives Faraday a mischievous smile from where he’s bent over. “Then I’ll start coming over on Saturday, instead, to talk with you.” The bastard doesn’t even give Faraday a chance to protest, waving as he heads down the street, whistling as he goes.

Stuck there, gaping after him, Faraday is left wondering _what_ just happened, because somehow, he’s gone from trying to give himself more space from Vasquez to seeing him twice as often in the week. 

Of course, Faraday also isn’t stupid enough to cancel the arrangement, either, so he just closes the door and lightly smacks his forehead against it a few times, wondering how the hell he keeps getting himself in these kinds of messes.

* * *

## JUNE

Alejo is on a date with Teddy.

He's on a date instead of at the vet office drinking one of Faraday’s six-packs of beer because even though they’ve started going to the bar with the others, Vasquez still comes by to gossip and discuss their weeks. He’s on a date with someone else, even though they have dinner on Wednesday nights, because Faraday had decided he needed to bring the greasiest food he could to Alejo and watch with glee when he winced, probably imagining the artery issues while he tried to learn as much as he could about Alejo’s work.

He’s on a date with Teddy Quinn instead of with Faraday.

He’s fine with that. Right? He’s totally okay with that. 

Shit, he’s bad at denial. Still, nothing’s changed. The last time they had a doctor in town, Faraday got involved too deep and then McCann took off for greener pastures because he got the recognition that he wanted out of his little stint in Rose Creek, going to work for some real estate mogul as his personal physician. So what if Alejo is handsome and kind and smart, damn good with a gun judging from their little excursions out to the middle of nowhere, and with the steadiest hands outside of…well, himself.

Faraday’s still having wet dreams about the time they all played strip poker last month and in a group effort, everyone got Vasquez down to absolutely nothing at all.

He’s not sure what’s worse; the crush he shouldn’t have or the fact that it was his own mother who set up Alejo with Teddy, in a gambit to try and make him feel welcome in town. Her theory had been that if they could get Alejo in a relationship, he might be hesitant to leave. He’s been puttering around his house tidying up and trying to use manual labor to keep his mind off the dark space that he can’t manage to dig himself out of.

It’s the little voice in his head that keeps saying, _what if he actually ends up going on a second date with Teddy?_

Because, what then?

What if Alejo and Teddy hit it off and eventually, he stops coming to Faraday to talk about his issues? What happens if Faraday has to see them in town holding hands or kissing or…looking down, he realizes that he’s squeezing the water out of the sponge he’s using for dishes, having to force himself to step away to calm down, digging his hands through his hair.

“Knock it off, Josh,” he mutters to himself. “This is what you wanted. There’s no way to get your heart broken if you aren’t involved.”

It’s the biggest bullshit he’s told himself since McCann left, but at least this lie is based on a sliver of a truth. There’s no knowing if he and Alejo would’ve worked out, so better to leave it alone and let him date whoever he wants.

He’s in the middle of digging out a load of laundry when he hears a knock at the door. Assuming it’s just his mother come to gloat about a date gone well or Emma coming around to spend time with him now that Matthew’s on the night shift again, he takes his sweet time answering, calling out a, “be there soon!” before he works on folding. When the knocking gets more determined, Faraday settles his clothes on a chair in the living room.

“Ma, hold on, would you?” he complains, taking a stab in the dark, “We really have to talk about boundaries aga…”

Faraday trails off when he opens his door and finds Alejo standing there on his stoop with ice cream in his hands. Checking his watch, Faraday verifies that it’s no later than nine at night, which means that whatever happened with Teddy either happened very fast, or didn’t happen at all. His heart beating faster at the sight of Alejo here at his home, it takes him a moment to find words. Worse, he’s stuck staring at the man in his sleek black button-down and the jeans that are doing wonders for shaping his ass. 

He looks good enough to _eat_ and Faraday feels like a starving man.

“Your mother always come by this late?”

“More than I want her to,” Faraday replies automatically, grateful for the out. “What the hell are you doing here? The entire town knows you had reservations at Goody’s restaurant tonight.” 6PM sharp, seeing as he’d been in the room when his mother had called in the booking. 

Alejo drifts inside without Faraday’s invitation, stopping in the front hall and lifting up the container of ice cream. No one brings that by if they’re celebrating, so Faraday drifts into the kitchen to get spoons and liquor, returning back to gesture to the couch so Alejo knows he can sit.

“That bad, huh? Teddy wasn’t so awful, from what I remember.”

“You dated him too?” Alejo asks, somewhat surprised.

“Three dates and one quick tumble,” Faraday clarifies, noticing how Alejo flinches a little, but paying little mind to it. Maybe it’s just thinking about sleeping with Teddy that’s got him so disgruntled, he’s not going to press. Handing out a spoon, he settles on the section of the couch closest to his chair so he can fold. “It’s a small town, not many viable prospects.” 

Alejo pries open the lid of the ice cream and peers into the top layer of cookie dough pieces for a long time. Faraday is halfway finished folding by the time he speaks.

“He’s not like my ex,” he says.

This has Faraday’s attention, because every time that they talk about McCann, Alejo always sneakily changes the topic so that they don’t have to talk about his ex. Faraday’s been waiting for the right time to try and push, but apparently he won’t need to. If he plays this right, Alejo will tell him everything without a single push.

So, now it just means carefully stepping around the issue and learning about this mysterious ex-boyfriend before Alejo decides to shut down.

“Not a mine-worker like our Teddy?”

“John was a firefighter,” Alejo says, digging his spoon into the ice cream to lever out a few pieces of cookie dough, chewing on them thoughtfully as he rests his gaze on Faraday. “Like you, but not,” he admits. “He didn’t do it volunteer, he did it all the time and he had very big aspirations. One day, he wanted to be chief of a firehouse,” he shares. “He was always after me to go to benefits, to join boards, to be a couple that had standing in a big city. He had the most incredible ambitions…”

Faraday stares at Alejo, because he feels like he knows this story, only, he’d been the one in Alejo’s shoes. Then again, John doesn’t exactly sound like an asshole the way McCann had been.

“Who left who?” Faraday hears himself asking, even though he’s supposed to be letting Alejo take the lead.

Alejo stares at the ice cream, picking at the label and peeling it back a little. “It was mutual, I think,” he admits, uneasily. “I was the one who decided to move out my things, take the dog. She was always mine, he had one at the station, but he still loved her. I think he still misses her, but we needed the clean break. We weren’t right for each other.”

Faraday feels the lump in his throat, knowing all too well what that feels like.

“John wanted to end up mayor of a big city with a husband on his arm who was top surgeon at a hospital and published in many papers. He wanted to go to benefits and charities and have his name _known_ and there is nothing wrong with this,” Alejo says. “It’s just not the life I wanted.”

“What’s that look like?” Faraday asks, wondering if he’s eager or dreading the answer.

“Something like what we’re doing now,” he admits, but then his eyes flash wide with panic. “Not to say that you and I are…we’re not…”

“Nope,” Faraday cuts in, a little too quickly. “Of course not, that’s ridiculous, why we would be…”

“I wouldn’t ever presume to…” 

Once they’re done talking over each other in a panic, Faraday buries himself in folding again, hoping to hell that Alejo doesn’t think that Faraday’s acting _weird_ or something. 

“I want to do good work, of course, but some place like Rose Creek where it’s a small community and I can really feel the end result of my efforts,” Alejo goes on, not bothering to ask why Faraday got so strange for a moment. “Where I know people and they know my name and it feels warm, good.”

Once the laundry is done, Faraday reaches over for that second spoon he’d brought, thinking he needs that ice cream about as much as Alejo does if they keep talking like this. Deliberately looking anywhere but right at him, Faraday asks a question he’s been wondering for months. “That mean you’re planning to stay?”

Maybe if he says yes, he can get his mother to quit with the set-ups. 

Alejo fidgets with the top button of his shirt, looking like he’s buying himself some time, which is never a good sign. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I’m still here until January, but I don’t know if I’ll stay. I like Rose Creek,” he says, staring at Faraday the whole time, “but it’s very far from my family and I still feel like I don’t have many close friends outside you. Plenty of acquaintances, but not close friends.”

Faraday swallows back his disappointment, wondering if he can somehow set up more events with their friends to help that (and, in the back of his mind, wondering when he’d started to turn into his mother). 

“It’s not for everyone,” he admits, because isn’t that how they got into this mess in the first time?

“It’s nice, though,” Alejo admits, making room on the couch as Faraday inches closer, sitting cross-legged and opposite where Alejo is. “I don’t think I have a romantic future with Teddy, but that’s not enough to put me off everything else.”

Faraday can’t help but think about who’ll come next, because his mother is nothing if not resilient in the face of fallen through arrangements.

“So, not planning to take over the town and become mayor one day, huh?” He leans forward to dig out some more ice cream, popping it in his mouth and leaving the spoon in the corner of his cheek before he pries it out. “I mean, you’d make a very handsome mayor. I think you could get anyone to do anything with that smile of yours.”

“Does it work on you?” With that, he flashes that heart-stopping grin that Faraday _wishes_ didn’t affect him so much.

Still, he acts like it does nothing for him, tapping the spoon against his fingertips. “Nope, nothing,” he says, lying through his teeth as his heart starts beating faster and he has to adjust his sitting position a little for what it really does. “Did it work on Teddy?”

Alejo makes a face, now, like he wishes Faraday hadn’t asked. “He suggested that after dessert, he could thank me for the date in the men’s room after I smiled that like. That’s when I went to the grocery store and bought this,” he says, raising up the carton.

 _Why here?_ Faraday wonders, but doesn’t ask. _Why did you come to me?_

He’s the furthest thing from upset that Alejo did, but it’s the why of it that he’s struggling to understand, if he’s honest. It’s why he’s selfish and he doesn’t say anything about the fact that while it’s amazing to see Alejo here sitting on his couch like it’s the most comfortable place in the world, he’s not sure why.

Instead, he drinks in the way Alejo’s collarbone looks now that the shirt has been unbuttoned enough to give a peek, loves the way the jeans hold tight to his hips and ass when he shifts on the couch, and pretends that he might even do something ridiculous like ask to stay the night.

Sadly for Faraday, reality comes crashing back in. “I should get back to Cora,” Alejo admits. “I haven’t let her out since four.” He rises to his feet, all of Faraday’s fantasies about Alejo asking to spend the night dashed. The bitterness lodges heavy in his chest and Faraday tells himself that he's being ridiculous. 

It means _something_ that Alejo came here at all. He’ll figure out what later, but he needs to take what he can get, now. At this point, that means learning more about Alejo’s ex (that he totally plans to stalk online later, if he can find him), and maybe, Alejo will keep feeling like he can open up to Faraday.

“Give her a kiss for me, would you?” he suggests, walking Alejo to the door. For a second, Alejo pauses and looks at Faraday like he’s considering something, but then the look is gone. He claps Faraday on the shoulder, his fingers lingering before he leaves into the night. Faraday waving him off as he climbs into his car.

Only when he’s gone does Faraday sink back against his door with dual relief and heartache. 

On the good side of things, the date with Teddy had been a bust so there’s no need to worry that in the immediate future, Alejo’s affections and his time will be stolen away. On the other, it’s not like Faraday is ready to step in and offer himself up, what with the multitude of issues he’s still dealing with plus the fact that there’s every chance Alejo will leave, just the same as McCann did.

Screw ice cream. Faraday needs a drink.


	2. July to December

## JULY

The entire goddamn town is about to play _soccer_.

Faraday had woken up to a flurry of group texts demanding to know where they could get seed, nets, and all the necessary equipment, leaving him staring at his phone in confusion because the last time they’d attempted sports on a town level had been baseball and it had gone decently, but no one had been demanding more. He has no idea why there’s a sudden frenzy to play soccer, so he messages Billy to see what he’s missed.

_ur mom heard dr. v say he loves and misses soccer_

Groaning, Faraday buries his face in a pillow. Of course, his mother can’t stop at trying to get Alejo to stay using matchmaking alone, so now she’s going to attempt to woo him with sports, and that means an elaborate show of introducing a whole new sport to the town. He only looks up again when he gets another text.

This one is from Alejo.

_can you drive me & cora to soccer? I didn’t know you had a league_

Yeah, and neither did Faraday. Sending off a quick confirmation that he’ll pick them up thirty minutes before the game, he wonders what the hell disaster he’s going to walk into. He debates calling his mother and asking, but decides that for once, he’s just going to let things go. At least it's soccer and they’re not trying to get Alejo to sleep with anyone today, so as far as Faraday is concerned, it’s an improvement.

When he gets to Alejo’s to pick him up, the first thing he sees is Cora in a little doggie referee jersey. Letting out a burst of a laugh as he opens the backseat door of his truck, he gives Alejo a dubious look, not having thought that he was the type of man to dress up his dog. 

“What?” Alejo asks, playing innocent. “We’ll need a referee.”

“One that isn’t so keen on chewing balls up, hopefully, unless Billy is keeping secrets from me about what he and Goodnight do,” he quips, seeing as Goodnight has been texting him highly inappropriate things about Billy in the referee outfit this morning. “In you go, pup,” he says, giving her a light smack on the behind before he decides ‘to hell with it’ and does the same with Alejo. “You too, doc.”

Alejo raises his brows, but says nothing as he climbs into the passenger seat. 

Faraday has no earthly idea what they’re going to find when they reach the town community center, but he’s surprised to see new nets up and varying adults standing around wearing mismatched jerseys that he’s _never seen before_. Alejo takes Cora from the truck and they both trot off happily to go talk to a few other townsfolk, leaving Faraday gaping at whatever the hell has happened to transform a once barren field into _this_.

“I don’t understand,” he manages, staring at the painted lines on the field, the new soccer balls, the nets, and a flare of bitterness waves over him as he thinks, _no one ever did this much for me_. Then again, maybe if he’d threatened to leave more often, he’d get more of this.

He's stuck in stupefaction, so much so that he doesn’t even see Billy coming until suddenly he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder. Startling, he glares at Billy, because sneaking up on someone is a bad idea, even if you are the top chef in the town and _deadly_ with a knife and could absolutely take Faraday in a fight.

“I take it Teddy didn’t fuck him into wanting to stay? Think me and Goody should offer a threesome?”

Faraday knows he’s joking, he _knows_ he is, and yet, he finds himself flinching at the suggestion. He presses his lips together to prevent himself from saying something stupid, instead trying to think of a change in conversation.

“You putting the teams together?” 

Billy gives him a wary look. “I am,” he says, but it’s rife with suspicion. “Why?”

“Because after everything I put up with for the people in this town, I deserve a good team. Put me with Vas,” he says, making sure he doesn’t use the man’s given name. Billy is incredibly intuitive and the last thing Faraday needs are rumors getting started just because he didn’t pay attention to what he’s saying. “C’mon, don’t make me play with the teachers,” he pleads. “We saw what happened at the students versus teacher game for field hockey.”

It'd been during his time as the interim doctor and there were two bloody noses, one sprain, and one injury that made Faraday give the teachers a lecture about wearing appropriate protective equipment _everywhere_.

“Fine,” Billy says, digging out a square of paper to make a few scribbles. “You owe me, though,” he says, in that casual way that implies he won’t come back to collect the favor, when Faraday knows better.

Still, as Faraday lets his gaze slide back to where Alejo is talking to Matthew and Emma, face lit up with the warmth of his laughter, Faraday thinks it’s worth it if he gets to play alongside him. Shoving down the surge of warmth, he heads to the sidelines to get ready for the game, knowing that they’re just setting themselves up for injuries given the fact that this is a first time for most people, but at least playing now will replace the need to go for a run later, not to mention going for a run doesn’t give him the thrill of seeing Alejo sweaty, giddy, and striding up and down the field more handsomely than he deserves to be.

For the next few hours, Faraday appreciates the fact that the need for physical exertion means that no one can bother Alejo, but also that no one looks too closely at where Faraday’s attention lies. With everyone focused on the game, Faraday doesn’t have to think about the town falling over themselves for Alejo, but never him. It gives him a chance to sweat and lose himself in the exertion. It also means that he gets to see the pure delight on Alejo’s face every time he scores.

He also learns that Alejo’s version of celebrating a goal means bodily tackling Faraday with a hug, slamming him down to the grass, seeing as Faraday hadn’t been expecting him to brace the fall.

“Hey, big guy, I need to breathe,” Faraday had protested the first time, not exactly in a rush to shove Alejo off of him, sweaty and breathing hard and making about three of Faraday’s fantasies come true if this ends with a kiss.

Sadly, Alejo pulls himself up sheepishly and brushes the grass off his knees before trotting off, leaving Faraday to struggle back to his feet 

_Those_ moments, well, even if it weren’t for the benefit of exercise, Faraday thinks this whole thing would be worth it for that. 

Considering this whole thing had been some ploy to get Alejo to stay in town, Faraday has to grudgingly admit afterwards that it doesn’t seem to have been such a bad idea. Everyone looks like they’re having a lot of fun and the kids adored playing on the smaller field (with Emma refereeing that one, staring with fondness at all the passing little children running past her). Throwing a dry towel Alejo’s way when the games are done, he can’t help teasing him a little.

“You always sweat this much?”

“Bad side effect of exercise,” he admits, as Cora dutifully licks up all the sweat from Alejo’s lean legs, his shorts giving everyone a good view. “It was good though, yes? You liked it?”

“Of course I did,” Faraday says. “You do know that this whole thing is just for you though, right?”

Maybe he shouldn’t go around tattling on the town like that, but he wants to be honest with Alejo, make sure he knows that this isn’t a regular occurrence. Does that take away from the fact that they’re trying to bribe him into staying? Maybe. Still, Faraday’s compelled to try to never lie to this man.

“I know,” Alejo admits. “It was fairly obvious when half the players don’t know where they’re going. It made it fun for me…” 

“They’re trying to give you reasons to stay,” Faraday hears himself saying out loud, immediately hearing his mother’s voice in his head snapping at him for being an idiot and giving away the plan when it’s still in progress. 

Alejo pats down his face and neck with the towel, looking thoughtful. “They could just ask. It’s nice to have the attention, of course, but sometimes it’s very overwhelming. I’ve never had people care so much about me, and sometimes I wonder why no one just asks me flat out.”

Okay, then, if that’s what he wants…

“So, are you? Going to stay,” Faraday asks bluntly, seeing as if Alejo wants him to ask the question, then he is absolutely going to.

The ensuing silence is heartbreaking. Faraday probably shouldn’t have asked, but there had been this little sliver of hope in him that maybe Alejo would answer quickly and he’d say ‘yes, Josh, I think maybe I’m going to stay here because I have someone that I want to stay for’. Instead, he gets awkward silence and Alejo scratching the back of his neck as he tries to look anywhere but at Faraday.

_Fuck_ , this answer is going to be awful.

“I don’t … I don’t know,” Alejo says, his answer awkward and halting. Every single syllable is like a lance through Faraday’s heart, a reminder that no matter what he’s feeling, none of that matters if Alejo plans to haul ass out of town the second his trial period is up. “It’s a nice town, but that feels like a very big decision…”

Faraday needs to get out of there before this gets worse. “I get it,” he cuts him off. “Listen, I need to help clean up before we can get going, why don’t you go say your hellos to the coffee klatch,” he says, trying to joke and infuse warmth into his voice despite the hollow feeling he gets when he thinks about Alejo leaving come January. “That way, we can head off once I’m done.”

Mercifully, Alejo agrees and heads off before he sees the way that Faraday sags forward with the weight of that answer. He should’ve known that he wasn’t lucky enough to get what he’d been wanting, but he’d been stupid enough to be _hopeful_.

To distract himself from having his hopes dashed, Faraday focuses on putting away the folding chairs in his trunk, which is how Emma finds him after she’s finished cleaning up after the kids. Her belly’s swelled up like crazy, but Faraday knows better than to comment on that, if he wants to keep his limbs to himself. “I don’t have any oranges left,” he warns her. “I let the losing team get them first, then you know my mother insisted Alejo get them next.”

Emma is smiling that mysteriously smug smile of hers, which gets Faraday suspicious until she pulls out a bag of fresh watermelon, handing it out to him. “I brought provisions seeing as this baby is stubborn about wanting to eat all the time.”

Faraday will never say no to that, digging into the bag and stuffing his face with delicious fresh melon. “You coming to the bar with us to celebrate the town’s first attempt at a soccer league? I’m pretty sure the kids are going to insist we keep doing this, so I plan on throwing the title of league organizer my mother’s way.”

“Actually,” Emma says, digging out her phone, “I have something better than drinks at the bar.”

Eyeing her warily, Faraday steps to her side, absently keeping an eye out for where Alejo is in the event he comes back to claim his ride. “What’s something better?”

She pulls up the dating app she keeps on her phone solely for Faraday, opening up the profile she keeps for him (since he never bothers to maintain one and Emma insists that it’s fun to live vicariously through him). “Look, see,” she says. “His name’s Daniel, he’s a park ranger nearby who’s looking for someone who can keep up with him physically and he loves dogs,” she raves, showing him the picture of the handsome blond man with a very admirable ass.

Of course, Faraday’s lovesick brain says that it’s got nothing on Alejo’s. 

“So?” Emma’s already typing, probably some cheesy response that Faraday will love. “What should I tell him? Do you want to meet up halfway, drive up north to meet him…?”

“Neither,” he hears himself saying. 

Emma gives him a suspicious look. “I know that you’re still smarting from your breakup, but it’s been a year now,” she says. “Over a year, it’s time for you to move on.”

“That’s kind of the problem, Ems,” Faraday confesses. It feels a little like free-falling. He’s known since Alejo started turning up at his place after date night that there’s no denying what he feels anymore. No matter how hard he tried to push it away, he’s got one hell of a crush on the town doctor.

If he’s honest with himself, he’d admit that it’s deeper than just a crush, but he’s not feeling very candid today.

Emma doesn’t seem to understand. “What do you mean? Did you meet someone? Did you not tell me?” She seems furious about this, smacking his arm with watermelon stained fingers (and it's a lucky thing he’s washing this jersey when he gets home). “Josh, you know I wanted to know when you started dating again.”

“Yeah, and I still promise I’ll let you know.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, Emma looks like she’s working through a vexing math problem that she can’t quite put together. Faraday’s got the utmost of faith in her, though, and he knows that it’s only a matter of seconds before it clicks.

“You like someone, but you’re not dating them,” she says. “Who?”

Well, at least he’s not so obvious that everyone knows. Faraday feels like he ought to take that as a small victory. “This doesn’t go anywhere else,” he warns. “What I’m about to tell you stays between you and I.”

She makes a show of locking her lips and throwing away the key, which is over-the-top, but somehow assuring to Faraday.

Sighing, he decides it’s better to rip off the band aid quickly. “It’s Vasquez,” he says, the last name sounding (and feeling) strange on his tongue when he’s been Alejo for so long. 

Emma stares at him for a long time, her eyes wide with shock and he can tell that the way her lips are pursed together means that she’s got about ten things that she wants to say and can’t decide which one to go with first. Eventually, she reaches over and smacks him upside the back of his head, letting out a strangled sound of disbelief. 

“I thought you hated him!” she hisses, trying to keep her words quiet. “All those months, you were so bitter about him being here and you kept insisting that you only saw him to go over patients.”

Yeah, he did do that. “We’ve been seeing each other a few times a week,” Faraday confesses finally, figuring there’s no point keeping this a secret anymore. “At first, yeah, I was doing it to be a decent guy and offer him some help. Then when my mother started to set him up on dates, he'd always come by after them. So, on Wednesday I go to the clinic and bring dinner, on Saturday he comes by to talk clients, and then whenever he goes out on a date, he comes by after.” If it were anyone else and any other situation, laying it all out like that would make Faraday see that it’s obvious that the guy’s interested.

Unfortunately, Alejo has come right out and said that he doesn’t really have any other friends in town, so as far as Faraday is concerned, he doesn’t exactly think that’s grounds to think Alejo is in love with him. Not to mention all of this is useless, when Alejo might be leaving in a matter of months.

Emma, of course, is also more perceptive than most and she picks up on the big issue. “You’re worried that he’s going to leave, too.”

It’s been a constant worry, but given that when he’d asked Alejo directly just now, he doesn’t think it’s just a worry anymore “He doesn’t know if he wants to stay, he told me as much less than an hour ago,” he says. “I can’t do that again.”

The look of sympathy on Emma’s face is actually physically painful for Faraday to endure, which means he wants to get out of this situation _pronto_. 

“Josh…”

“Hey, Alejo!” Faraday decides to take matters into his own hands, waving to the other man and Cora to get their attention. When he’s seized it, he gives Emma a triumphant look, like his somehow calling over the object of his affections is somehow a win on his part instead of just more torture, but right now, he’ll do anything to get out of this conversation. “C’mon, let’s go drop Cora off so we can have victory drinks already.”

“All right, _nene_ , in such a hurry,” Alejo chides, giving Emma a warm smile. “I’ll see you on Tuesday for your check-up?”

“Yes, you will,” Emma says, with something in her voice that sounds dangerous to Faraday.

He shoots her a warning look, because she’d better not be thinking about telling Alejo anything and if he has to bribe her, then he’s got plenty of dirt that he can threaten to unearth, if mutually assured destruction is the way they’re going with this. He ignores Alejo as he gets Cora into the truck, eyeing Emma and mouthing ‘don’t you dare’ at her while he leaves.

She smiles at him, all devious innocence, and Faraday knows that she’ll keep quiet, but that she’s probably about to launch into her ‘isn’t Josh so great’ campaign with Alejo.

Considering the man’s probably on his way out of here come the new year, that’s the last thing any of them need.

So in the spirit of all the difficult times of his life, Faraday decides to do what he does best – apply denial to the situation and keep moving forward. It’s always worked for him before, why not now? With a sidelong glance to Alejo (who’s feeding Cora some treats from his hand and crooning at her in Spanish), he thinks that it might not be a good long-term solution, but for now?

He’ll take anything that keeps him away from the inevitable, impending heartache of losing Alejo.

* * *

## AUGUST

“Pour some milk in there, sweetheart,” Eleanor Faraday says, gesturing to her tea. Faraday does as he’s told before he plates the pastries he’d picked up from Emma’s that morning. He’s bought more than usual, because today isn’t going to be the usual chat, if Faraday has anything to say about it.

In the last two months, he’s watched his mother set Alejo up with another four blind dates. 

He’d gone through with them, too polite to say no, but he’d come around to Faraday’s after each one went bad. He never gave too many details about _why_ they happened to be so bad. In fact, the men themselves had nothing but praise for Alejo according to the town’s gossip, so Faraday’s left searching for why things went so wrong and a second date never happened.

On the other hand, the lack of a second date is what’s helping Faraday stay sane, so maybe he shouldn’t wonder so much.

What he is sure of is that if his mother sets Alejo up with anyone else, he’s going to go crazy. Faraday also knows that she’s not bound to just stop without a reason, so today’s the day that he lays his feelings out on the line.

Not that he plans to _act_ on them, he’s not an idiot, but he can’t watch Alejo go on dates with people being thrust onto him. 

“Now,” his mother says, eyeing him with that critical look in her eye that says she knows how to read her boy, “You don’t come around for tea with me unless you want something.” He keeps his chin up, refusing to give any indication that she knows him this well. “Do you need money?”

“What are you…Ma, I’m fine,” Faraday protests. “I’m giving you money every month, what are you talking about…”

“So it’s not money,” she cuts him off, tapping her fingers on the table as Faraday pours milk into her tea and reaches forward to pry one of the puff-pastries from the plate. “Are you going to come out and tell me or do I have to keep guessing? You know you never like it when I try and poke holes into your personal life.”

That’s because it gets so damn embarrassing, what with his mother not having a lick of shame.

“It’s about Alejo,” he says, trying not to let himself sound too compromised or involved. He’s here because he wants to talk about the conversation they had after the soccer game about all the roundabout attention. That whole damn production had been ridiculous and Faraday’s not surprised that the man’s feeling overwhelmed. He needs his mother and the rest of her little klatch to understand that they might be doing more harm than good.

He needs to make sure that he gets Alejo to stay and their intentions, while good, aren’t helping. He’ll start there and work his way around to asking her to stop setting him up on dates.

“You and your friends need to stop, Mom.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The soccer game,” Faraday says heatedly. “The damn cheerleaders and the new uniforms and you trying to use YouTube to teach half the town the rules just because you overheard him on a cell phone talking to some relative about how he missed his house league.”

Eleanor gives Faraday a disbelieving look, lips pressed together primly. “You didn’t seem to mind getting the chance to show off,” she notes, speaking about the goals that Faraday had scored, after which he’d managed to secure a few bone-crushing, _incredible_ hugs from Alejo that he’s never going to regret.

“He was overwhelmed, okay?” Faraday snaps.

His mother gives him a dubious look, like she doesn’t quite believe him. “He looked happy enough.”

Faraday’s stomach twists and turns a little, that damn hindbrain voice saying ‘isn’t it good that he was happy playing at your side, couldn’t that have been because of you?’ 

“Yeah, well, he’s really good at pretending to be happy so he doesn’t upset everyone,” Faraday mutters, grateful that he’s telling the truth. Yeah, he feels like a little bit of a heel for admitting this because while it isn’t a secret, it still feels wrong to say out loud. “It’s not just me being twitchy about the entire town doing this for him, he feels awkward over it. He’s told me so.”

His mother raises her brow, making that face like she’s considering thinking about taking his advice, but in the end, she intends to listen to her own intuition. Faraday _hates_ that face. 

“Well,” she says considerately, “I suppose we could stop with the soccer and instead move towards our plan to throw him a benefit…”

“Please don’t do that,” Faraday says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head.

“Fine,” she agrees. “I’ll focus on setting him up with Ada’s boy. He’s coming back to town from his job for a position at the mine, doing some of the technology work,” she raves, not paying attention to how Faraday has completely tensed up at the mention of Alejo potentially going on _another_ date.

No more, he’d told himself. That’s the whole point of today. No more.

“Ma, don’t.”

“You don’t want me to inundate him with the whole town, then I won’t, but Joshua, I want to keep that man around and if it means whoring out my friends’ sons until I find the right one, then…”

Closing his eyes, Faraday knows this isn’t going to end well, but he has to say it. “I think I’m in love with him.” He’s got his eyes squeezed shut, so he can’t see the look on his mother’s face, but given the telltale silence, he imagines that it’s probably something along the lines of _smug_ and _delighted_.

When he opens one eye to look, he finds that he’s completely off the mark.

Instead of those things, she’s got a sympathetic look on her face, right down to the twist of her lips. “Sweetheart,” she begins, and Faraday cringes at how sorry she sounds. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because it didn’t matter sooner,” he protests, reaching for his cup of coffee and wishing it weren’t such a faux-pas for him to spike it. “I was okay letting you set him up with other men because I knew that I wasn’t ready for anything. I still don’t know if I am, especially not knowing whether he plans to stick around, but I can’t…” He trails off, dredging up the strength to say this. “I can’t watch him date other men anymore, not when he turns up at my place after every date.”

The truth is, he’s terrified that one of those times, Alejo is going to turn up and tell Faraday about the _amazing_ time he’d had. 

“You know that I’ll stop, but…”

Faraday grimaces, seeing as this is the last thing he wants. Conditions on how this works isn’t exactly in his best interest, since he knows his mother well enough to know what’s coming next.

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

“Because McCann fucked me over,” Faraday starts hauling out his list. “Because Alejo doesn’t know if he’s staying, either, so why would I invite four months of happiness on myself before I have to go through that heartbreak again. Because I’m his best friend in town and maybe he needs that more than he needs a boyfriend.”

He can feel himself getting worked up, can hear it in his tone, and it’s not his mother’s fault, but god damn is he pissed at her for bringing it out of him.

“Easy, kiddo,” Eleanor says, with little sympathy for his little sulking fit. “So, what were those first few months about? I mean, I probably wouldn’t have set the two of you up anyway after your last trashfire boyfriend hurt you so badly, but I genuinely thought you didn’t like him.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else. I didn’t like the idea of him,” he protests, which he’s come around on now that he’s actually spent months with the man and found that he’s everything that McCann had been _supposed_ to be. Exhaling, he gives his mother a pleading look. “Look, he said he’s not sure if he’s staying. The best you’ll do by throwing all this at him is mildly annoy him, but he’s not used to this much attention. If it gets to be too much, he could bolt,” Faraday feels inclined to point out, trying to ignore the ache in his heart at the thought of his life next year without Alejo in it.

Fuck, maybe he ought to be doing more to try and get him to stay.

Instead, he leans forward to dig into the cookies on the table, needing the sugary sweetness of Emma’s baking to tide him over before those awful thoughts can get worse. If he thought that pouncing on Alejo and showing him what a great fuck Faraday is would help, he might have done it by now, but it’s the morning after part that he’s not sure about.

More than anything, he hates that he hadn’t let Alejo talk about why he’s so hesitant to stay, but Faraday can fill in the blanks. The town isn’t big enough, he doesn’t feel like Faraday and the others are close enough to be a friend support group, his family is too far, the climate isn’t right…

He could keep going, seeing as he’s thought about this a lot, but he has to stop.

“Look, you know I want him to stay,” Faraday says. “Stop setting him up with other guys for my benefit and I’ll slowly start to poke and prod and see is there’s any wiggle room on his feelings about staying,” he offers, even though he’s not sure he could bear hearing Alejo definitively decide to leave.

His mother looks at him dubiously, but finally seems to give in. “Fine,” she consents, setting her empty cup of tea on the saucer. “Aren’t you lucky that Alejo didn’t hit it off with Teddy, then.”

Poor Teddy, thinks Faraday, who’s been everyone’s go-to and doesn’t seem to hit it off with anyone particularly. One day, Faraday figures, that’ll change. 

“Trust me, I think about it every time I see either of them,” he guarantees. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he thinks that he needs to get out of here before he can sink deeper into this pit of feeling sorry for himself just because he’s in love with a handsome and intelligent doctor who’s in high demand.

It's definitely one of those problems no one’s giving him any sympathy for.

“Call me when you get home,” his mother insists, which Faraday waves a hand to promise that he'll consider it before he heads outside.

He should probably swing by the office or maybe just go back to his place. 

Instead of that, though, Faraday finds himself feeling particularly masochistic. He digs in his pockets until he finds his cell phone and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s dialling Alejo. It’s the middle of the day, it’s not like he’s going to be free, and Faraday doesn’t even know _why_ he’s calling. It’s not like he can come out and say ‘hey, my Mom isn’t going to set you up with people anymore’ and he doesn’t think it’s been long enough since the soccer game that he can demand to know if Alejo plans on staying.

“Josh,” Alejo picks up, breathing out his name with so much warmth and fondness, even though he sounds a little frazzled. “Is something wrong?”

Yeah, Josh thinks.

_I’m in love with you and now my mother and Emma know, but you’re probably four months away from bolting out of Rose Creek_.

There’s also this stupid part of his head that’s telling him to just tell Alejo what he feels and if Alejo plans on still going, then maybe it’s time for Faraday to leave his hometown and see what else is out there at Alejo’s side. It’s something he’s never really considered before, but Alejo makes him think of doing plenty of things he shouldn’t be doing.

“No, I’m good. Are you hungry?” he skips right past everything that actually is wrong, because right now, he just wants to see Alejo.

When did he become this sappy asshole? He hates himself, but not enough to actually go back on the question.

“Starved,” Alejo says, still sounding a bit rushed. “I’m in with a patient now, but if you come by in thirty minutes with food, you’ll be my favorite person in town.”

“I thought I already was.”

“Mmm, you were, but during her appointment, Emma brought me cupcakes.”

“That woman knows it’s a temporary position,” Faraday says, already feeling a little lighter as he heads towards Goodnight’s restaurant to pick up something to go. “I’ll see you in thirty, okay?”

“See you soon, _querido_.” Alejo sounds warmer, now, like some of the stress has melted away at the sheer promise of seeing Faraday soon. Faraday knows that those little names Alejo keeps calling them aren’t insults, but he’s also telling himself not to read too much into them until Alejo decides to stay.

When that happens, he’ll bask in being Alejo’s darling and babe all day long.

Right now, he’s got lunch to fetch and a doctor to feed. He reminds himself that it’s not a date, but honestly, Faraday’s not sure he really cares about putting names on it anymore, seeing as he gets to see Alejo and that aching pang in his heart seems like it’s easing away. If he only gets the man for another few months, he’s going to take advantage of every moment he can.

Maybe he’ll even end up following him when he goes.

It’s too soon to tell, but Faraday feels like he’s got options and that’s a hell of a lot better than last time.

* * *

## SEPTEMBER

Every third week of the month, Sam comes in for his check-up. Every month that passes, Vasquez constantly worries that this will be the one where the tests come back bad. Today, though, for the first time since he came to Rose Creek, he actually thinks that things are looking good enough to have hope. It’s good timing, to the point that Vasquez isn’t sure if his new resolve to make a decision about his upcoming future in Rose Creek revolves around this.

He knows that another part of him is determined to remind him about the other, very handsome, very talented reason that he might want to be staying, but Vasquez can’t make decisions based on a potential relationship alone.

That’s not fair to anyone and he knows it.

“So, how’s it looking under the hood?” Sam asks, once he’s changed back into his normal clothes from the patient gown. 

Vasquez glances down to the chart and the tests that he’s run, wanting to be absolutely sure that everything looks good. The last thing he wants to do is give false hope to a patient, but after so many months in a row of the same pattern of looking up, he thinks that it’s time to finally tell Sam the good news.

Dragging his stool over, he settles on it in front of Sam, giving him a warm smile as he prepares to give his favorite speech. “I’m pleased to say that I don’t need to see you every month for a while,” he says, diving straight into the news with a beaming smile. “Between the surgeries and the chemo treatments, today I’m going to officially tell you that you’re in remission. Congratulations,” he says, feeling beyond ecstatic to get to say these words. It’s not often that he gets to deliver the good news, so used to the bad. 

He’s had enough patients to know that everyone deals with news like this in their own way. Some people cry, some people laugh. Some don’t do anything until days later, so he’s not going to expect anything out of Sam Chisolm. Within moments, though, the man appears giddy, clapping his hands together and laughing in a deep boom of pleasure. 

“No shit,” he says casually, like they’re talking about the weather.

“No shit,” Vasquez echoes, figuring he’ll play along. “You’ll still come back so we can monitor and make sure there are no relapses,” he warns.

Sam looks at him with a sheriff’s eye, deducing and careful, and Vasquez wonders what it is that he’s said that could make him look at Vasquez that way. He goes over his words, but can’t figure it out, so maybe Sam is just feeling a little strange with the news of his progress?

“How often would I come back?”

“Every six months, ideally.”

“That sounds to me,” Sam says, slowly like he’s building a case, “like you’re intending to be here six months from now, which is past the trial date that I offered to you. Is there something you haven’t told anyone yet that you’d like to tell me?” 

Vasquez can feel his stomach drop, now seeing exactly what Sam had seen in his words. He hadn’t meant to talk about it with a patient, but Sam had been the one to bring him to Rose Creek in the first place and he thinks that maybe it would be a closed circle if he was the first one to hear the news.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, lately,” he admits.

If he’s honest, the majority of his thoughts have been about Josh Faraday, a man who won’t leave his dreams and his fantasies. The trouble with wanting someone _so_ badly is that it makes a good excuse for poor decisions to be made. He’s had to strip away his feelings for Josh in thinking about Rose Creek, but even when he did that, it was easy to see the choice.

“When you were trying to get me to come here, you asked why I broke up with my boyfriend,” Vasquez says as he sets his clipboard down. He’s reaching a long way back, but it’s been a sore topic for him apart from the rare times he talks about it with Josh.

“I did,” Sam agrees, narrowing his gaze at Vasquez. “That matter now?”

“It does,” he agrees. “My boyfriend wanted to be very important and impact many people. He wanted to go to benefits and have big groups of friends and be doing something always. One day, I think he will sit in government,” he admits, honestly. “He had very big ambitions and I think that he thought because I was a published doctor, that I wanted the same.” He notices that Sam hasn’t interrupted him, hasn’t prodded him with a question and he appreciates the time to put his thoughts into words. “The trouble is, I like my job, but I felt overwhelmed by all the things he wanted. I hated the conference talks,” he confesses lowly. “The benefits were boring and seeing other people all the time made me want time to ourselves to be a couple instead of someone to stare at.”

Vasquez squeezes his hands, stares at them, wondering when it was that he decided to stay in Rose Creek. Part of him wonders if he hadn’t always known and he’s just been in denial.

“I want a small life,” he confesses. “That’s why I want to stay here. I want a small, happy life with my dog and a house that fits just right. Maybe, somewhere, there’s a person at my side with me,” he admits, because he doesn’t want to assume that just because he’s staying, he’ll get Joshua out of the deal. “I don’t want to have to worry about keeping up with someone else or failing expectations. That’s what I want.”

“So you think Rose Creek is a good place for that,” Sam says, not so much a question as it is a pleased statement. “I know that the rest of this town has been trying to lure you into staying, but let me be the first to say that I’m happy to hear that you feel that way about our little town.”

Vasquez lets out a surprised exhalation because he’s gone and admitted that he wants to stay and he feels good about it. No one will come and strike him down, no one is calling him a fake for wanting to do it (yet), and he thinks that he’s making the right choice.

“I shouldn’t be taking up your appointment time asking questions…”

“By all means, I’d love for you to,” Sam cuts him off. “What’s up?”

“If I wanted to buy a house here, who would I talk to?” He starts with this question, but it’s the prelude to about twenty just like it. Sam tells him about the local realtors and the properties that have been on the market for a while. He tells Vasquez about the practice and the lawyers he’ll need to get into contact with in order to put everything in order.

An hour later, Vasquez is pleased that Sam had been his last patient of the day, because he’s definitely taken up far too much time with his own personal matters.

“I take it you’ll be telling everyone else about your decision,” Sam says, tweaking the cufflinks of his shirt as he puts on his jacket. 

Vasquez nods, though there’s one person that he wants to speak to before anyone else. While his decision to stay means that he needs to start getting better about making friends, he’ll never forget the first friend that he’d taken in. 

“I need to talk to Josh first.”

“You know, when I asked you to come to town, I half-figured the two of you might come to blows at some point. He can be a bit of a stubborn man.”

Vasquez can’t help his delighted grin, laughing deeply. “I know,” he promises, which is just part of the reason that he’s so head over heels for him. He’s stubborn and clever and wickedly funny, not to mention giving and kind and the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen, with eyes the likes of which Vasquez can’t say he’s ever met before.

He wants to tell him _now_ , but there are things to do before then.

“Let me get my house and practice in order, make sure that there’s nothing that would require me to leave,” Vasquez says, being pragmatic. The last thing he wants to do is tell Josh that he’s staying and wants to be with him, only for some bad luck to take him back out of town until he can get little details in order. 

It starts to feel real as he thinks about these practical things that he’s talking about doing. He’s so distracted by it that Sam nearly gets out the door before Vasquez can stop him. 

“Hey!” he calls after him. “Clear some time in your schedule. We’re going out for a celebration drink,” he insists.

“I’m sure someone else plans on organizing it to celebrate you staying,” Sam jokes dryly.

“Not that, _idiota_ , who cares about a man living in a town? We’re going for drinks to celebrate your remission.” He hopes that Sam doesn’t feel inclined to point out that in Rose Creek, _everyone_ cares whether Vasquez stays or not. To him, what’s most important is that someone’s health has finally taken a turn for the better.

Sam seems pleased by Vasquez’s insistence, given the way he ducks his head down to hide the smile.

“You sure you want to risk Faraday getting jealous over you taking another man out for drinks?”

“What, now you too are teasing me?” Vasquez shakes his head like he’s actually somehow disappointed when really, he’s surprised that not everyone in town knows about the wildly massive crush he’s been nursing for the vet since probably May. “I think he knows my honor is safe from you trying to plunder it.”

“Plunder,” Sam echoes, faintly bemused. “I sound like a pirate in this little fantasy of his.”

“Well, you would look good with an eye-patch, I think,” he says with an easygoing grin. He knows that he can’t share Sam’s progress with anyone else because of confidentiality, but he still thinks that when he goes by Josh’s for drinks this week, he’s going to be lighter and feel better about the fact that he’s seen real progress.

That it happens to be with the man who brought him to this town where he’s met Josh, well, it makes him feel even better.

“Drinks,” Vasquez insists. “I’m not going to take no for an answer. Maybe I will just imply that I will leave town if you don’t join me and sic Josh’s mother on you. She’s a very terrifying and effective woman,” he says, with the due reverence that’s owed for that woman’s resourcefulness.

No wonder her son is just as stubborn and accomplished, coming from that house.

“No need to get dirty,” Sam says, just a little too quickly. Vasquez knows this means that he’s just as frightened of Eleanor Faraday’s abilities, but given what he’s seen, he thinks that’s the reasonable position to take. “I’ll have your drink with you. Let me know when you’re settled and have a place to live, we’ll go out and we’ll celebrate.”

“Count on it,” Vasquez promises, seeing Sam out.

When he heads back inside, he picks up his cell phone. For a brief and boyishly exciting moment, he debates texting Josh to ask him to come over immediately so that he can tell him the news, but knows better than to get everyone’s hopes up first. He needs to make sure that he follows the right steps.

Get the house, make sure he has a way to keep practicing, then, go after the man he’s in love with and let him know what he feels. 

With bright hope and promise, he calls the realtor instead of feeding his desperate need to speak to Josh and he gets started on step number one.

* * *

## OCTOBER

The Robicheaux house is not a house. One of the first thing that Vasquez had learned is that when people absently remark on the ‘Robicheaux House’, they’re understating things severely. It really is far more like a mansion. Vasquez has been here for ten minutes and he swears that he’s been wandering around empty hallways searching for the Halloween party that whole time (when, really, it’s closer to two minutes). Goodnight had once told him that though his restaurant was successful, he could only afford to live like this because his family had money.

One look around this place proves just _how much_ money. Adjusting the starched collar of his Regency prince costume, he runs a nervous hand through his hair one more time, catching a glance of himself in the mirror. 

He’d gotten a haircut and shaved for tonight and while he tells himself that it’s because he wanted to make the costume look good, he also knows that there’s more at stake. The blues and whites of the costume go nicely against his tanned skin and dark hair, a few pieces of costume jewellery on his fingertips catching the light and his boots shined to perfection. He feels very much like a prince and he’s eager to give himself a happy ever after.

Tonight’s the night he’s telling Joshua that he plans to stay. 

He’d made the decision a month ago, but he’d given himself time to make sure that everything is finally in order and he doesn’t just _want_ to stay, but he’s got everything set up so that he actually can. He feels proud that he didn’t make his decision completely based around a man, seeing as it would have been far too easy to do that when he’s in love with Josh. 

The last time he made a decision based on a relationship, he wound up taking a job offer and coming here and…

Well, it’s worked out for the best, at least, but first he has to see if Josh returns his feelings. He has high hopes, of course, because they’ve definitely been flirting for months, but given all the stories about Josh’s ex, he knows that it’s a tricky subject and that Vasquez has to be careful. Ducking around the halls, he greets people with a warm smile, noticing people really go all out on their costumes in this town.

Even with that in mind, he isn’t even close to expecting what Josh has come dressed as. Vasquez stands paralyzed in place as he watches Josh approaching from where he’d been drinking at the breakfast bar with some of his friends.

Every time Vasquez texted to ask, Josh would reply with _it’s a surprise_ , but this? This is a better surprise than he might consider in his wildest dreams. Dressed in nothing but a thick loincloth and a long wig, Vasquez lets out a burst of laughter (mainly to hide the fact that he’s very aroused right now). It takes him a long moment to process this, because he’s seen Josh shirtless before, but never when he could actually conceivably do something about it. 

For a breathless moment, Vasquez is struck by how lucky he might end up, if he plays this right.

“Me Tarzan,” Josh says, strolling up to him and poking himself in the bare chest (is it oiled? Did he grease himself up for this?) before reaching out to poke Vasquez against the lapel of his pressed shirt. “You royalty.”

“Prince Alejandro,” he agrees with a sweeping bow. “First year not doing couples costumes, I can’t tell you what a relief it is not to go as firefighter from the pin-up calendar.”

“Really? That sounds like the opposite of a relief to me,” Josh says, his flirting having grown blatant recently. “Let me guess, Mr. July?”

“You’re already shirtless enough for the both of us, _querido_ ,” Vasquez replies, feeling just as brazen and daring to flirt back as much as he’s being flirted with. Now that he’s staying, it’s like a heavy shroud has been peeled away from his shoulders and he feels free to say whatever he wants and do anything. “You don’t have a drink,” he says, thinking that he needs a little liquid courage before they get into the big topic. “Come on, I saw something that looked very alcoholic at one of the tables I passed.”

“My favorite,” Josh jokes. “Lead on, my prince.” He drapes an arm around Vasquez’s shoulder. 

Maybe before, he would have laughed and joked as he gently nudged it away, because he didn’t want to let anything happen that Josh might read into. Tonight, in a move that feels daring and obvious, he lets that arm stay. When he sneaks a look to the side, he’s not surprised to see the warmth on Josh’s face, but it’s the soft surprise in his eyes as he studies Vasquez that gives him courage to keep going.

“I think this is some hipster bullshit,” Josh explains as he pours them drinks from the punch bowls, squinting at it in the light. “I asked Billy to explain it to me, but he got as far as ‘candied liqueur’ and I think I blacked out from pretentiousness,” he cracks, smirking as if he’s waiting for Goodnight or Billy to pass and hear him.

Handing out a plastic cup to Vasquez, he steps into his personal space, the warmth of his body making the doctor in his head pipe up.

“You know,” he murmurs, “that costume of yours could be trouble.”

“Yeah? The good kind?”

The _very_ good kind, but dumbly, Vasquez doesn’t actually play along. “If you’re not careful, you might experience some mild hypothermia if you don’t bundle up properly when you go out.”

Seemingly unfazed, Faraday gives a bark of a laugh, lifting his cup to drink without taking his eyes off of Vasquez for a second. “In that case, better keep someone very frilly and fluffy around who’s got medical knowledge to warm me,” he says.

Cheeks flushed (from the warmth, the alcohol, or the flirting, Vasquez refuses to say), he wonders what it is that’s changed. Then, he has to wonder if maybe _nothing_ has changed and this is just him seeing their relationship with his eyes open for the first time. Maybe they’ve always been flirting like this, maybe it’s just that now he’s seeing it for the potential it holds instead of just very good friends teasing one another.

It's long past time, he thinks, to finally take the next step. 

“Can we go talk?” Vasquez says, knowing that normal good conversations don’t typically start like this, but he has no idea how else to say this. He doesn’t want to come off too casual, he doesn’t want to come right out and say it, because there are a lot of people around and this is a more private conversation than that.

Josh seems to pick up on the fact that this isn’t just a normal conversation.

“Sure,” he agrees, a touch wary. Gesturing to a little corner that seems to have a little privacy, Vasquez paces that way, fidgeting with one of the ruffled cuffs as he tries to think of what words he wants to use. He should make jokes about Faraday’s wig, wonder whose poor hair had to suffer for him to wear it, but he’s so fixated on what he wants to say that it falls away.

Josh keeps close in step, like he’s not willing to let Vasquez out of his sight, a hand at the small of his back. 

“Are you okay?” Josh asks instantly, clearly picking up on the stress he’s feeling. “Did something happen, why didn’t you text me…”

He trails off when Vasquez holds up a hand to get him to stop rambling and _wait_ for a moment. If Josh is going to keep talking, he’s never going to get this out, because he’ll let himself be distracted and then the whole reason he came tonight will be up in smoke. It’s a very nice party and Goodnight and Billy have outdone themselves, but the real reason he wants to be here is to tell Josh what he’s been waiting to tell him for weeks.

“You remember back in July, during the soccer game, you asked me a question?”

Josh’s face is a mixture of hope and suspicion, like he thinks he knows what Vasquez is talking about, but doesn’t want to confirm it by asking. 

“We talked about a bunch that day, Alejo, what part are you talking about?”

“When you asked me if I was going to stay, if I wanted to stay.”

That’s the trouble. There had been a difference between him wanting to stay and him knowing that he could manage it with the future in mind. If it were up to him, he would have stayed for Josh Faraday alone, but that could spell trouble in the long run, if he doesn’t make sure that his career and personal friendships can also thrive.

Hope appears to be edging out suspicion, now, on Josh’s face.

“Yeah,” he says. “I remember. Why’re you bringing that up when we’re talking in the corner of Goody’s place?”

Josh isn’t a stupid man, he already _knows_ why, which means that he wants Vasquez to come out and admit to it. He wishes that he felt braver than this, but this feels like one of the most important things that he’s ever done in his life.

Truthfully, it probably is one. 

“I know that my family isn’t as close here as they were when I lived in Houston,” he starts, trying not to feel like he’s giving a stilted awkward speech. He even settles his hand at his side, the other reaching out to rest on Josh’s forearm, like he needs the warmth to ground himself in this moment. “My sisters and my parents are far, I won’t have access to the same hospitals, I only have new friends here, but I also found a space in town that I fit into. The clinic is good for me. I can see the results of my work, I still get to head to the hospital and perform surgeries when they call me, my friends here are _my_ friends and not just John’s, and it’s a nice, simple life in a good town.” 

He’s not saying the most important part, why isn’t he saying the most important part? Right, he’s trying to show Josh that even though he wants him, there are other reasons he wants to stay, that he's not basing this whole decision on one thing.

“There’s also someone here that I’ve made a connection with. He’s someone who understands me, who knows the struggles I go through and he’s there with a beer and dinner after. My dog loves him,” he raves, his eyes softening as he stares at Josh, reaching over to pry that stupid wig off of his hair so that he can look at the man he fell in love with, not some silly costumed version of him. “I think he’s pretty incredible, too. He’s smart and talented and caring, clever and funny and very, very attractive.”

“Isn’t it a shame Goodnight already married Billy?” Josh quips, his tone low and heated. 

Vasquez laughs brightly, stepping a little closer to Josh. It’s a silly joke, but one that warms him throughout, and makes him think that _yes_ , he’s made the right decision to stay.   
He slides his fingers slowly over Josh’s cheek as he steps in to share space, holding his face. 

“I’m staying in Rose Creek, Josh,” he says, a pressured weight coming off his chest the minute he says it. 

“Yeah?” Josh breathes out.

Vasquez closes his eyes and begins to drift in, ready for a kiss that he’s been waiting for since probably May when Eleanor Faraday wandered up to him and said that she had a date she wanted to set him up on and, for one brief hopeful moment, he’d thought that maybe she meant with Josh.

He can feel the warmth of Josh’s lips when he hears someone shouting his name with sudden urgency.

“Vasquez! God damn it, Vasquez, where are you? We need you!”

Through the haze of his thoughts, he registers dimly that Josh would use his first name, but also, he shouldn’t sound this panicked. Opening his eyes, his fingers drag over the stubble of Josh’s cheek and he realizes that it’s not Josh shouting his name in a panic, but Goodnight. Disappointed, but fairly alarmed, Vasquez drifts backwards two steps from Josh, a pained look in his eyes.

Whatever is happening sounds urgent. 

He tangles his fingers with Josh’s, trying to get him to come with him, but after a quick squeeze, he becomes business-minded and starts walking rapidly through the halls to near the kitchen where Teddy is in distress, pale and struggling to breathe. He’s seen this enough times to know what’s happening, but still goes through the steps of asking if Teddy is choking, whether he can breathe, and once he’s assessed, he gets ready to work. 

“Everyone move back, give some space,” Vasquez says, getting ready to perform the Heimlich. As much as he wants to ask someone else to do it, this is his responsibility and as he drags Teddy away from the tables to get his hands on him, pressing and mapping where he needs to push, he keeps an eye out for Josh out of the corner of his eye.

His professionalism kicks in, making it so that he doesn’t have time to let his eyes wander to the man he’s in love with, instead focusing on whether Teddy can breathe or speak or even stop resisting him, but eventually Vasquez manages to get his hands placed to mark his spot, moving to gently give the Heimlich without causing any damage.

The offender – a cheesy shrimp puff – comes hurtling out and Vasquez suspects that he’s not imagining the guilty look on Goodnight’s face, seeing as it’s his food that caused the scene. 

When he’s done (both with dislodging the food from Teddy’s throat and from trying to dismiss the applause), he turns to see where Josh has ended up, but he can’t find any trace of him. Maybe he’s just wandered off? Vasquez heads back through the party, ignoring all the handshakes of gratitude and the pats on his back, frowning when he does three tours of the house and can’t find him.

“He left,” says Billy, who catches Vasquez on his third turn.

“Maybe I’ll just send a text,” he says awkwardly, wondering if he’s going to have another chance like this one anytime soon. He’s trying to understand _why_ Josh left, jumping to the worst conclusions in his mind, but when he checks his phone, there’s a text from Josh saying that talking right after all that chaos isn’t the right time.

Standing in the front foyer, phone in hand, and abandoned, Vasquez lets out a rueful laugh when he realizes that dressed in his prince’s costume, he’s unwillingly living out Cinderella’s tale, but lucky for him, he knows exactly where his love has gone. It’s just a matter of tracking him down and making things right.

Seeing as Vasquez isn’t planning on going anywhere, that should be fairly easy.

“Thanks, Billy,” he says. “I’ll meet up with him soon,” he decides, heading back into the party to put his mind at ease by surrounding himself with friendly faces, getting to better know the people in this town as more than just patients, seeing as soon he’s going to be their neighbor, too.

* * *

## NOVEMBER

“Aren’t you tired of decaf tea?”

The icy glare that Emma gives him is answer enough (well, it’s also a promise that she might intend to murder him, but that’s what he gets for making quips around a pregnant woman). He lifts both hands to show that he meant no harm, reaching over for one of Emma’s famous triple chocolate brownies, only to have his hand slapped.

“Damn it, Emma,” he hisses. “I need it.”

“No,” she says patiently. “You need to man up.”

Faraday rolls his eyes. “Are we seriously doing this again? It was an almost moment, but nothing happened and he’s been too busy to talk since.” Nothing happened because goddamn Teddy had to go and choke on one of Goodnight’s appetizers. He’s not sure who he’s more upset with – Goodnight for making the food too big, Teddy for not knowing how to goddamn chew, or Alejo for being a doctor in the time of crisis and not kissing Faraday like he was absolutely going to. Maybe he’s the maddest at himself, for leaving the party before he and Alejo could pick up where they left off, but that moment had been ruined and the last thing he wants is to remember their first kiss as ‘that panicked moment after Teddy almost died’. 

It’s been two weeks since then and every time he and Alejo are supposed to hang out, Alejo ends up having to cancel because he’s closing on the house he’d bought to stay in Rose Creek. 

So, on the one hand, Alejo is staying and that’s amazing.

On the other, they haven’t been given any time to themselves since Alejo made the announcement and Faraday is getting overly needy when it comes to telling Alejo all the things he's felt for a long time. Emma shifts uncomfortably in her seat, though and just like that, Faraday forgets that he’s having man issues. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”

“He’s pressing on my bladder,” Emma complains as she shifts her weight a little. Faraday’s beginning to wonder if his bet for the due date is going to be right, seeing as he’d put his money on the baby coming in early December – just a little past the actual due date. 

He’d banned Alejo from participating in the bet, seeing as it felt like he had the inside edge. Alejo had just smiled playfully when Faraday had accused him of it, which had been hell for that crush of his. 

“I need to piss,” Emma interrupts, ruining all his romantic thoughts.

He waves her off with a ‘be safe’ and goes back to drinking his coffee, barely glancing up when he hears the chimes above the door go off. Whoever it is, they’ll just have to wait patiently until Emma’s little bean is done stomping all over her bladder, but the moment he turns to tell the customer that Emma will be right back, his words get taken from him.

It’s not a customer at all, but instead is the one man he’s been dying to see.

“Alejo,” Faraday greets him, feeling like the breath got knocked out of him. “Hey. I haven’t seen you around lately.”

“Had to get the house inspection and the paperwork done so that I have a place to live come January,” Alejo admits, gesturing to the seat across from Faraday that Emma had left so abruptly. “Your mother told me that you’d be here.” Faraday hates the awkward feeling that lingers between them, but he’s just not sure what happens after you nearly kiss a man and tell him all the things he’s kept pent up.

“Came to see Emma,” he agrees. “I figured I owed her a little attention seeing as she couldn’t have the usual good time at the Halloween party, not to mention the little one is going to steal all her future ones for at least eighteen years,” he jokes, even as his heart pounds in his chest, making him feel like he’s all of sixteen years old again.

He’s an idiot in love with a handsome doctor who definitely wants him back, but he wants to make sure that they start this right. Faraday’s not playing around this time and he refuses to start on a bad foot just because he rushed into things.

“Listen, Josh,” Alejo starts, setting his fingers on the table. “I’ve been meaning to come and talk to you, but the closing of the house…”

“No, I get it, obviously you…”

“It’s just that I wanted to make sure I had a place to stay before I…”

“Yeah, of course, you…”

“Boys,” comes Emma’s strained voice from the doorway to the back of the café, mercifully cutting off their interrupted rambles. Faraday looks up to thank her with nothing more than a grateful look, but when he sees the pale wash of her face, he instantly knows that something is wrong.

_Shit_ , he thinks, glancing to Alejo instantly. 

“What is it?” Alejo demands, on his feet. The awkward man of earlier sloughs away and is replaced by the capable professional Faraday’s seen in action so many times. 

As Faraday inches closer, he knows exactly what’s happening. He might not have seen it so often in humans, but he’s seen it plenty with the animals that he’s worked with. Emma’s water just broke, which means that it’s _time_. Faraday glances to Alejo, who looks a little pale himself.

“What?” Faraday demands.

“I gave my nurse the week off, she’s up visiting family,” he admits. “Josh…”

He doesn’t have to say another word. “I’m there with you, just tell me what to do.” 

Alejo reaches out to squeeze Josh’s shoulder, like he’s steadying himself but also stealing some affection where he can. This definitely isn’t what he’d wanted for Emma (in fact, it’s pretty much the opposite, seeing as Faraday had been hoping to be a safe distance away from the _splatter_ , but Alejo needs him and that overrides everything).

If he ever needs a reminder about how deeply in love he is, this moment will be it. He’s willing to brave Emma’s birth canal sightings for this man. 

“Emma, we’re going to the clinic, okay?” Alejo says. Without even needing to be coaxed, Faraday falls in line to help Alejo with getting her into a chair, which they can then pick up and carry. From the few people they pass when they’re hustling in the street, Faraday suspects that within the hour, the entire town is going to know that Emma’s gone into labor.

It’s not exactly ideal, true, but at this point, the only thing he cares about is getting his baby out. 

“Breathe,” Alejo coaxes. “ _Mija_ , nice deep breaths for me, and Joshua will start to time the contractions,” he instructs. He shares a look with Faraday, one that says that they could be here for a very long time (which is true). 

“Call Matthew and put this goddamn chair down!” Emma snaps. “I’m not an invalid, I’m having contractions every few minutes and I can walk!” They’ve only gone about a block before she starts fussing and slapping at their hands, but eventually she gets her way, glaring at the both of them. “You’re buying me a new chair,” she tells Faraday, though she slings her arm around his shoulder to hold onto him.

“I can’t call Matthew and hold onto you.”

“Somehow I don’t think you want your dreamy doctor carrying me honeymoon style,” she quips back, which makes Alejo blush a brilliant pink that Faraday’s never seen before. It’s _adorable_ , god damn him. Instead, he steps in to take Emma’s arms off of Faraday and to coax them onto himself, giving Faraday a chance to send a text to Matthew. Alejo spends the whole walk asking Emma questions about the birth plan, her contacts, and her plans for immediately after the baby is born, checking to make sure that they have everything they need.

Faraday’s known Emma since they were little, so he’s absolutely not surprised when she levels Alejo with a dubious glare for the implication that she somehow hasn’t prepared enough.

“She’s good, babe, let her be,” Faraday assures, reaching out to take Alejo’s keys from him (and ignoring the strange, wondrous look on his face, probably because Faraday’s getting pretty loose with his endearments). Not that Faraday minds, though, because as far as he’s concerned, they’re going to get around to using more than a few endearments, if his damn friends would quit it already.

First Teddy, now Emma. 

Faraday’s going to have a little chat with his friends later and ask why they keep having medical emergencies that thwart his love life. Alejo’s clinic isn’t so far from Emma’s shop, so even with them abandoning the chair midway, they don’t have very far to go before they reach it. Faraday takes over for Alejo, easing Emma towards the bed and thinking, disappointed, that he’s not going to win the bet. Alejo hands her a hospital gown before he heads off, leaving Faraday to avert his eyes while she gets changed.

“Don’t look so sad, you can make out with him later,” Emma mutters, cranky as she drops her clothes in a pile before reaching both hands out to Faraday so that he can help her towards the bed where she can get more comfortable.

“Oh, shut up, I was just thinking about the pool of money you’re losing me. You sure you can’t keep this kid in for another week?”

The look she gives him tells Faraday that Emma is clearly _not_ in a joking mood right now.

“Okay, fine,” he sighs, settling into the chair beside the bed, reaching out to take her hand. Until Matthew gets here, he knows his place as dutiful best friend means that he needs to offer support, but hearing Alejo hurrying around frantically to get things ready also means that he wants to try and help him, too. “Besides, we’re not going to make out.”

“Yes, you damn well are,” Emma tells him.

“I don’t think you can order two grown men to do that, Ems,” Faraday points out.

“When you nearly kissed at Halloween and probably would’ve ended up in my bathroom sucking face if I hadn’t gone into labor, you’re damn right I can,” she challenges, her eyes blazing with fire and fury. “Have you at least told him what you feel?”

Squirming a little in his chair, he doesn’t mention that while Alejo had been very descriptive about his emotions and how he felt, Faraday hadn’t exactly had a chance to get so flowery in return. He’d meant to, obviously, but he’s not so good with tender emotions off the cuff, needing more time to prepare before he goes and says something stupid.

“This baby is literally causing me abject physical pain, but I actually think I may be madder at you right now,” Emma says, as if in awe and wonder. “Alejo!” She shoots Faraday a sharp look. “You are telling him.”

“No, I’m not, you meddling huss…”

Alejo comes back, clearly confused, but he’s got pillows with him to help put behind Emma’s back. “Is it something wrong? Pain?” He’s brought drugs with him, which means that it’s about to be time for Emma to drift off into a happy place, though Faraday fears what she might say while in the throes of pain medication. Alejo steps towards the bed and bows his head to focus on his work, getting Emma hooked up to an IV and giving Faraday a pointed look.

“What?” Faraday asks warily.

“I’m about to give the epidural,” he explains, starting to lift up sheets. 

“Copy that,” he says, and wiggles his chair a little until he’s no longer facing the both of them. He tries to ignore the rustling of sheets and the cry of pain from Emma, but he’s not heartless, so when he can feel her reaching out for him, Faraday turns back and squeezes her hand gently with both of his. “Hey, hey, Emma, you’re going to do great,” he promises. “Remember? Sam went and found you a doctor so I wouldn’t have to do this or drive you two hours for someone to. Could you imagine sitting with me in a car for two hours while you have contractions?”

Her muffled sob of laughter clearly breaks up some of the pain, judging from the relieved look in her eye. 

“The pain’s going away, you just need to get through a little bit first,” he says, kissing her palm. “Matt said he’ll be here soon and then I’m gonna put on a cute little pair of scrubs and make sure that everything goes just fine,” he guarantees. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she replies, taking in deep breaths after Faraday coaxes her to mimic him. From over her shoulder, he can see the fond way Alejo is staring at him, not even bothering to mask the affection. 

Alejo squeezes her shoulder, settling down on the other side of the bed as he checks on the dosage of the IV, holding out a hair tie as he starts to speak to her quietly, braiding her hair back once Emma’s given him a verbal nod of confirmation that he can. This strange little situation is the one that Matthew bursts into, which Faraday finds himself faintly amused by. It’s definitely a sight to walk into, what with Faraday looking like he’s relaxing by the bedside while Alejo fusses over Emma’s hair (and she fusses right back to insist that she doesn’t need anything fancy, just to get the damn thing off her face). “It’s time?” Matthew asks, panicked.

“Not yet,” Alejo replies, clearly disappointing him. “The contractions are still too far apart, but it’s good that you’re here.” Everything is ready to go, from what Faraday can tell, but while they might be ready, that doesn’t mean the baby is. “She’s had her epidural,” he warns. “So she might be a little loopy and it might slow things down, but we’re getting there.”

Faraday claps Matthew on the shoulder, gesturing to his seat. Emma’s already starting to get a little woozy, reaching out for him and mumbling about the baby coming, which means that Faraday thinks they could use some privacy. Alejo seems to understand the same, heading outside the room to give Emma and Matthew a moment alone.

“Want some help, doc?”

“I think I’m ready to go, now we’re just waiting for the baby,” Alejo admits, leaning back against the counter, careful not to let his hands touch anything. “I’ll never say no to your company, though,” he admits, which draws Faraday in a little closer. Though, he winds up stopping like he’s been lanced when Alejo keeps going. “Why’d you leave there alone on Halloween?”

Faraday is definitely not proud of himself for that one. 

“You just saved Teddy from choking and the town literally burst into applause. You were going to have admirers all night long, if I’d stayed, I’d have been hanging back waiting for an opportunity to talk to you again,” Faraday admits, leaning on the wall opposite Alejo, their feet almost touching in the space between. “That’s not something I was ready to fight against.”

Faraday reaches out, gently touching the tip of his boot against Alejo’s, trying to summon up something graceful and helpful to say. 

“When this is done…”

“Vasquez!”

Fucking _Matthew_ Cullen, thinks Faraday, wondering if he can kill his friends and get away with it. Glaring when the door opens frantically, he reminds himself that the panic in Matthew’s eyes is what he really needs to worry about, following after Vasquez to help. 

Faraday wishes that he could say something about the miracle of birth, but they spend about ten hours helping to get the baby to crown and pushed out, all while Emma cries in a way that Faraday’s never seen before. This kind of intimate look is more than he can bear, and when it seems like Alejo has everything under control, Faraday drifts to Matthew’s side, trying to give him some support through everything. 

By hour thirteen of the labor, Faraday is starting to think that they’re going to be here for a while when Alejo starts encouraging Emma to take her last big pushes before, the room is finally pierced by a shrill cry. Emma’s shaking and crying, already grasping out ineffectively and desperately, despite Matthew hushing her that the baby will be there soon. 

That, of course, is Faraday’s cue to help.

“Normally, they’ve got four legs when I do this,” he jokes to Alejo quietly as they work to cut the cord and clean up the little baby boy. Alejo lets out a soft huff of laughter, reaching out for one of the blankets while Faraday takes his time with the baby, marvelling at all those little fingers and toes, swaddling him with all the care and joy in the world.

“Joshua Faraday, you give me that baby,” Emma says, and even though she’s exhausted, Faraday’s still more than a little frightened of her, so he does what she says. Gently, he settles the fussing baby into Emma’s arms, his eyes still closed. 

Stepping back, he knows that Alejo has tests to run and vitals to check, ones that he doesn’t need any help with, so he steps out of the room with a whisper to Alejo about where he’s going. 

Once he’s out in the main waiting area of the clinic, he ends up pacing the floor and thinking about the last day. Has it already been a day? Most of one, he thinks, which is crazy on its own. The last year, Faraday’s been so focused on his own issues that he’s lost sight of the larger picture. He’s forgotten things like the strength of family and his friends that got him through the worst of the breakup.

He's forgotten that just because he’s back to being a vet and a volunteer firefighter, he hasn’t lost his purpose – it’s just shifted.

Most of all, Faraday’s forgotten that opening your heart and falling in love with someone isn’t necessarily a bad thing, not if the right person comes along. Glancing back to the room where he knows Alejo is busy fussing more than he needs to because he’s overinvested, Faraday thinks that anyone else would slap him in the face for not seeing the incredible thing right in front of him.

He’s thinking about that when Alejo shows up, his hair a mess and a five o’clock shadow on his clean cheeks, making him look rugged despite his exhaustion. “Hey,” Alejo whispers, barely out of Emma’s room in order for him to nod for Faraday to follow him. “Everyone is decent and I think she’s ready for you to meet him properly.”

“Him.” Faraday lets out a laugh of delight, because all that secrecy about the sex of the baby and finally, _finally_ he finds out when he ends up helping to deliver the kid. “All right, tell me the good news. His name’s Josh Cullen, right?” 

Laughing under his breath, Alejo opens the door to let Faraday inside, keeping himself near the walls of the room like he doesn’t want to intrude. Faraday decides ‘fuck that’ within seconds, tugging Alejo by the forearm so he can force him to stand right beside Faraday to inspect this little baby boy.

“He’s six pounds and nine ounces,” Emma shares proudly as if they hadn’t been the ones to weigh him, stroking her fingers over the little pink fuzzy cheek of a malformed little thing in a brown cap. Matthew’s curled up behind them, staring down at the baby’s blue eyes reflecting right back up at him. “And no, Joshua, we didn’t name him after you.”

“His name’s Jack,” Matthew shares proudly. 

“He’s beautiful,” Faraday promises, regardless of any insults against him by not naming the baby after him. Drifting closer to Alejo, he wraps an arm around his shoulders to give him a squeeze, a ‘good job’ without saying as much. “Even if he is a week early,” he adds, given that December is still a week around the corner. 

“Guess you had to help me give birth after all,” Emma says, but she doesn’t sound very sorry. “At least now you’ve got a hell of a story for when my boy’s eighteen and his Uncle Josh needs to embarrass the hell out of him.”

“I can’t wait,” he says, and means it with all his heart. 

Glancing at Alejo, he feels lighter than he has in months. Everything is finally starting to go the way it should and even though some days, Faraday doesn’t feel like he deserves a second chance, it’s not going to stop him taking one. Even if takes them a little longer to get there, Faraday thinks that he’s okay with that.

If nothing else, today has reminded him that the good things, the ones that last in your life, they don’t have to happen frantic and quick. Sometimes, doing things right means taking time, but then getting to keep it because you didn’t screw up along the way. Watching Alejo light up while Emma and Matthew play with the baby, Faraday knows that he’s found the best thing.

Soon, he tells himself. Then, he doesn’t plan on letting him go.

* * *

## DECEMBER (one week later)

Soon, it will be a year since Vasquez arrived in Rose Creek. He’s already signed the paperwork for a house down the street from his apartment, moving from the small studio space to a one-story bungalow that he thinks has a real chance of feeling like home, soon enough. With his one-year anniversary looming, Goodnight and Billy’s holiday party seems like the perfect reason to celebrate, so Vasquez goes with bottle of wine in hand, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he thinks about whether Josh will be there or not. He’s being ridiculous because of _course_ he’ll be there, he doesn’t know why he’s thinking so negatively. 

He's going to be there and not only that, but he’ll probably be in a suit. After all, everyone else is dressed up in their cocktail best, why wouldn’t he be?

Ever since he’d decided to stay, Vasquez has been looking at the town in a new light. Before he’d made his decision, looking at the future had been dangerous. Why think about his romantic life if he was going to leave? Why think about houses and friends and plans to expand his practice? Now that he’s staying, though, everything looks brighter and filled with more potential.

It also means that it’s been two months of mishaps and other business getting in the way of Vasquez wanting to get to the topic of them actually taking the next step in their relationship together. Their near miss at Halloween meant that he’d spent the next month fretting about what to say and then when he’d gone to try and give a whole speech, Emma had gone into labour, leaving him no choice but to put his love life on hold, waiting for the right moment to come. With the party so soon after, he’s decided that tonight is the night. 

He’s not leaving this party without talking to Josh and seeing if they can get to the next level.

None of that can happen unless he finds him, though. Reaching over to gently grasp Goodnight’s sleeve as he passes, he gives him a searching look. “Is Joshua here?”

“Haven’t seen him yet, son,” Goodnight offers apologetically. When Vasquez’s face falls, Goodnight apparently reads that as a grandiose mistake. “I will text him to make sure that changes, however.” True to his word, he wanders off with his head bowed down, frantically typing a text.

Setting his glass of wine down on the nearest table, he feels like he’s seconds away from pacing when he catches sight of Billy approaching, out of the corner of his eye. 

“The house looks lovely,” Vasquez praises, given the elaborate garlands, lights, and other assorted holiday decorations that must have cost thousands and at least a few dozen hours to get up properly. “You want to come and do my new house?”

“So it’s true,” Billy notes. “You’re staying.”

He doesn’t think that it’s a secret, not now that he’s signed the papers for the house and the ‘SOLD’ sign has done a good job of telling the town that he’s sticking around. Apparently, the town still hasn’t processed this as anything more than a rumor, from the disbelief on Billy’s face.

“I had nowhere better to be.”

“So it has nothing to do with anything in particular,” Billy deadpans, looking at Vasquez with that unflinching, unblinking way he has about him that always seems like he can read right into your soul. “If you’re staying because of a single person, I know it might be too late, but you should know that I feel like I know Josh Faraday well enough to know that if you asked him, he would’ve followed you out.”

Vasquez shakes his head, because he’d thought about that, too, but in the end, it hadn’t just been about Josh. “I like Rose Creek. Being in love with Josh, it’s a cherry on top of the sundae, but this town is the reason I started to think about staying in the first place.” It feels so freeing and easy to admit that out loud, that he’s in love with Josh, and his heart beats faster for it.

Maybe he shouldn’t be telling Billy that before he tells Josh himself, but he’s hoping to rectify that tonight. 

“You’re going to make half the girls in town sick with that fairy-tale nonsense,” Billy deadpans. “And me, because Goody adores that shit.” Shaking his head, he puts both of his hands on Vasquez’s shoulders so that he can angle him towards the front hall, walking him a few steps until he gets him apparently where he wants him, positioning him there.

Vasquez shoots Billy a dubious look. “What the fuck was that about?”

“Making sure that you two idiots don’t waste another two months,” Billy says calmly. “Josh, hey,” he says before Vasquez can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, drawing Vasquez’s attention to the front door where Josh is stepping inside and brushing snowflakes from out of his hair and off his shoulders.

Mouth open and dry, Vasquez isn’t sure what to say. As soon as Josh gets his coat off, Vasquez gets a good look at him dressed in his best, the crisp white collar of his shirt showing off atop the dark suit, his hair curling just a little and his beard tamed. Handing off his jacket to Goodnight, he drifts into Vasquez’s space.

Then, he throws a dirty look at Billy.

“Rocks, this isn’t subtle.”

“You two clearly can’t manage subtle, so I’m taking measures to fix that,” is Billy’s calm reply. “Come on, Goody, let’s leave them alone.”

Vasquez gapes at Josh, struggling to find his words for a long while. Honestly, he’s not entirely sure what he’s supposed to say. 

_I’m sorry that we haven’t had a chance to connect?_ or maybe _I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to tell you I love you, but I just told Billy instead_. Instead, his brain goes completely dead when Josh reaches forward and slides his fingers over Vasquez’s cheek, gently pressing his fingers under his chin to tip it up.

It's fairly easy to see, now, why Billy put him here.

“Mistletoe,” Vasquez manages, trying to sound annoyed instead of nervously fond. It’s not that he's nervous to kiss Josh, but he’s built everything up in his head, making him wonder if he should be telling him about the in love part before they start making out (because he suspects that once they start, they’re not going to stop).

Josh looks a little worried himself, but maybe that makes Vasquez feel better.

“I didn’t count on Billy Rocks being such an interfering bastard, but I think I should have,” Josh says, with a disbelieving huff. He hasn’t taken his hand off of Vasquez, but he has moved it lower to slide over his neck, absently stroking his thumb against the nape. “Listen, Alejo, we could talk about this first, but right now, the only thing I actually want to do is kiss you. Seeing as we’re both standing under the mistletoe, I figure that’s the best excuse we’re going to get.”

He’s not wrong. Besides, this time Vasquez can just grab him and make sure that he stays before he runs off and makes him a poor man’s Cinderella again. 

This should be romantic, it really should, but Vasquez can hear the way he’s started to laugh, which needs to stop, but he’s just thought about how ridiculous this all is. “You better not be laughing at me,” Josh grumpily mutters, still stroking his fingers over Vasquez’s neck.

“Not you, _nene_ , just _us_. It’s been five weeks since I wanted to kiss you the first time, but when I moved into town, you hated me,” he accuses, grasping Josh’s hips when he sways back like he means to be offended, tugging him back in with a delighted laugh. “Everyone told me that you had your heart broken, so I stayed away until I couldn’t. You have no idea how badly I wanted to date you, but I knew to give you time.”

It had taken all of his energy and will to do it, but he had.

“Hey,” Josh says, his own laughter kicking up around the point where Vasquez started talking about his broken heart, “I got this smart idea where you shut up and let me kiss you.”

“Why would I – mh _pmh_!” Vasquez staggers backwards when Josh pins his hips up against the wall with force, diving into a kiss that’s not tentative in any way, shape or form, seeing as Vasquez is seeing stars (maybe from his head hitting the paneling?) and how his hips are already rocking forward for more friction as his mouth parts open desperately, his fingers tangling into Josh’s hair to scrape at his scalp, trying to haul him in for what’s turning out to be a messy, uncoordinated kiss that’s more passion than technique. 

It's definitely shut him up. His eyes stay half-lidded when he finally opens them to see Josh working his neck over with affectionate little kisses.

The catcall from nearby, though, reminds Vasquez that they are very much in public.

“Josh,” Vasquez protests, fumbling to grab his shoulders and ease him off, mainly a struggle because he doesn’t want to actually push him away right now, when he’s enjoying him being so close. “Josh, wait. Wait! I really don’t need Goodnight and all his guests to know what I look like when I’m turned on.”

“Really? Because I desperately need to know that,” Josh tells him, pinning him back again for another kiss. 

Vasquez gives in to it, because he’s been waiting months for this, but he manages to ease back again when sense finally permeates his brain through the haze of desire. “Joshua,” he pleads, the desperation clear from the whine in his voice. “Do you really want me to start stripping off my suit right here where your mother and all her friends can see?” 

That seems to get through to his head, because an alarmed look appears on Josh’s face.

“Everyone would see?”

“Everyone,” Vasquez agrees, with a serious nod. With the distraction, he nearly doesn’t go forward to tell Josh the whole truth, but he knows that he has to be brave and do it. Reaching out to take Josh’s hands in his own, he tugs him in close so that they’re in the middle of a private conversation meant for just the two of them, keen to tell him what he’s been feeling. “You rushed past what I was going to say,” he accuses.

“I feel like it was worth it,” Josh murmurs, his voice a sweet thing that makes Vasquez want to taste it.

_No_ , he cannot, he has to be strong.

“I love you,” he gets out, before Josh can do anything to ruin his confession. “I’m in love with you, I have been for months,” he admits, “but I didn’t want to push until I knew I had a future here, because I love you enough to want you to be happy and not just because I was selfish enough to take what I could for a few moments.”

Josh is looking at him with a longing look, fond and something on his face that Vasquez can’t place.

“You,” he begins, voice low, “are making it very hard as far as wanting to kiss you again goes.”

“I had to say it,” Vasquez protests, because he couldn’t let that secret lie in his heart for much longer without being spoken aloud. He thinks it might have actually started to eat away at him. 

Josh makes up for the lack of kissing by sliding his fingers over Vasquez’s cheek, leaning in to rest his forehead against Vasquez’s, taking in deep breaths like he’s trying to steady himself.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got something to say too, but first,” he says, moving his hands to Vasquez’s hips, “say yes and come on a date with me.”

Laughing, Vasquez doesn’t know how else to protest this ridiculousness. “We’ve been dating for almost a year,” he manages to get past his laughter, because he doesn’t know what else you can actually call their get-togethers on an honest level, if not dates. “What’s different now?”

“Now, it’s real. It’s a proper relationship and it’s me courting you with real dinners in public and picking you up, getting to see you in a suit like this again,” Josh adds with a hungry look in his eye, fingers sliding up and down the lapels of Vasquez’s suit. “You, me, Goodnight’s restaurant. Let’s have that date we should’ve had months ago. I promise you’re not going to end up at the grocery store buying ice cream after.”

“What if I want to?” Vasquez replies, sliding his lips to Josh’s earlobe so he can whisper what comes next. “I have this one fantasy where I strip you down and eat whipped topping off you, then suck it off your…”

Josh yelps, interrupting the word that comes next. “My mother’s here!” he hisses. “Behave!”

“Oh, what, like you were behaving earlier?” he retorts, seeing as Josh’s attempt to reduce Vasquez to pieces with kisses had been a clear violation of public decency. He can feel the way the mischief makes his face hurt from smiling, because for all that he’d hoped for this, he never really thought he’d get to _have_ it. “Yes, Josh, I’ll come on a date with you.”

“Don’t you dare phone it in,” Josh warns, sliding his hand to the small of Vasquez’s back as he finally eases them away from the wall.

In all the activity and the emotion, Vasquez nearly forgot that there’s a whole party around them. Now that he’s reminded, he takes a moment to center himself before he leans into Josh’s frame, startled a little by how quickly things have changed.

He’d shown up here single and now he’s pretty sure that he has a serious boyfriend.

“Finally,” Goodnight sighs, when he sees them, quickly disavowing Vasquez of any idea that this was quick. Billy gives a vehement nod, and behind them, Emma looks like if they hadn’t talked, one or both of them might have been smacked over the head.

Through the evening, Vasquez spends all his time watching how Josh practically shimmers in the holiday lights, using his hands to rant and rave and talk, absently dropping kisses to Vasquez’s neck and cheek and shoulder, like he’s forgotten to do it for a year, so he needs to make up for lost time. In turn, Vasquez doesn’t dare move his hand from Josh’s back, feeling like if he takes it away, something terrible will happen.

Well, it will, but the terrible thing will be that he’s not touching Josh anymore.

When the night comes to a close, the worst part is standing on Goodnight’s stoop watching Josh brush snowflakes off the shoulders of his coat. They’re not going to the same place, not yet, because as much as they both hate to do it, it’s better to have the actual first date before they end up fucking at one of their places.

Call him a romantic, but Vasquez likes to be a traditionalist some of the time.

“So, when are we doing this?” Josh asks, hands in his pockets. 

Vasquez wraps an arm around his waist to start walking with him, his gloves restricting most of the contact. “Is tomorrow too early?”

“I was going to say that I was disappointed Goody doesn’t do breakfast, so no,” Josh promises, voice low and intent, “tomorrow is definitely not too early.” 

That’s a promise that Vasquez can take to the bank, which means that even after they part ways (which only happens after about four lingering kisses and one moment where Vasquez’s ungloved hands get tangled up in Josh’s shirt, brushing against warm skin while he thinks about throwing his morals out the window), but as he slowly drifts back to his new home, there’s a feeling of hope and promise filling his soul and it’s the best he’s felt in years.

This is the best change that he could’ve ever hoped to have. 

Now it’s time for him to figure out a way not to fuck it all up.


	3. Years 1 through 25

## One Year

“Is that all the boxes?”

Josh calls the question over while he lifts the heavy boxes into the bedroom (the ones full of his clothes), mildly annoyed when he doesn’t get a response. Huffing, he drops it as loudly as he can, grateful when the _thump_ draws Alejo’s attention away from the window where he’s kneeling on the bench seat of the bay window, peering past the curtains. 

“What are you doing?” Josh asks, dreading the answer.

“Do you know that there’s at least five people watching you move in?” Alejo asks, incredulously. It’s almost sweet, like Alejo has somehow lived here for a whole year and still doesn’t understand that the people of Rose Creek are nosy assholes that won’t let you have a personal life that stays private. Sighing, Josh heads to the window to join his boyfriend (and that’s a word he’s never going to get tired of saying), pressing up against him with his hips until Alejo gets the hint and wraps his arms around his frame, holding him from the side.

From here, Josh can make out a few of the neighbors peeping which is expected. There’s a group of walkers who are definitely bending their schedule to get a spy in, and of course, Emma has decided not to bother with subterfuge, standing at the porch. 

There goes christening the front hallway with sex. 

Josh turns and buries his face in Alejo’s shoulder, right when Emma rings the doorbell. “We’re not home,” he protests, into the fabric of a shirt that Josh suspects belongs to him, seeing as it both smells and looks like his spare baseball jersey. 

“Your truck is half unpacked in the driveway and our front door is open,” Alejo says, squeezing Josh’s hands to get him off of him. Cora’s already barking away, the little traitor, and Alejo goes to join her, welcoming Emma to their home.

This is how you set a precedent for letting people wander in at all hours of the day, doing whatever they like. He’s probably a little too grumpy right now, but Josh really had been looking forward to getting all of his boxes inside and starting to work on making Alejo’s home into _their_ home.

It’s been an incredible year. Ever since last December, Josh keeps waiting for someone to pinch him so that he’ll wake from the dream, but it never happens. They’d gone on a first date just before Christmas at Goodnight’s restaurant and Alejo had _tortured_ Josh by making him wait until the third date for anything more than light kissing, like either of them are the kind of men who should be waiting to have sex.

Though, to be fair, waiting that long is probably the reason why Josh had wound up coming three times in an hour, begging for the fourth when they’d finally fallen into bed together. Pent up is a generous word to describe how badly he’d wanted it. From there, it had been so simple to fall into a new life for themselves, though if Josh is honest, that’s because not much really changed apart from the fact that they’d started sleeping together and publicly dating. 

Pushing the clothes box aside, Josh sighs and resigns himself to being nice to his friends.

“Emma,” he greets her, seeing that Alejo has already kidnapped Jack and is making ridiculous faces at him, smiling in that way that practically epitomizes sunshine. “You know you’re interrupting move-in day.”

“I’m here to _help_ ,” she promises, hanging up her coat. “Let your boyfriend play with the baby and show me where the boxes that need to be moved are. I believe I owe you.” She does, too, and not just for helping to deliver the baby, but because when Emma and Matthew had first moved in together, he’d helped not once, but _three times_ because their first apartment had termites, the second was supposed to be temporary when the third (and perfect one) came along unexpectedly.

Matthew also owes him, but Josh isn’t going to start poking holes in her generosity.

“Hear that, babe? You’re off the hook,” he calls to Alejo, who’s already wandered off with Jack, Cora bouncing at their heels. He gives Emma a suspicious look before she can say anything. “We’re not having kids,” he tells her, but he fears that this is going to fall on deaf ears like so many other protests he makes. 

The kid talk had happened about three months in. Josh had worried that maybe they were going to end up with vastly differing opinions that’d put an end to their relationship just as it was getting going, but he didn’t have to worry. Alejo is happy being a doctor and an honorary uncle just as much as Josh is.

“Besides,” Alejo had said, curling into Josh’s side, “I have three sisters and two of them very much want kids. My parents will have more grandchildren than they know what to do with.” And enough nieces and nephews for them to spoil, had gone unsaid. 

Heading towards the front walkway, Josh gestures to a few of the lighter boxes, grabbing the box of books to tote them inside. With Emma’s help, they get through the remainder of the boxes in the flat of his pick-up in half an hour. They’re methodical and quick about unpacking them, barely exchanging more than a few words (the most conversation they do have is about where Josh wants his things). 

They’ve known each other so long that they’re a lean, mean, efficiency machine sometimes.

The reward, of course, is that they finish at a decent time and can spend the rest of the afternoon drinking the six pack of beer that Emma’s brought. Collapsing onto the couch with Alejo once he hands back little Jack, he drapes an arm around his boyfriend, handing him a bottle of beer. “It’s mostly done, babe,” Josh says, “you owe Emma a big thank you.”

Alejo and Emma both level a disbelieving look on him, as if they’re reminding him about all the help that Alejo’s been with the baby over the last year, from midnight panicked check-ups to babysitting, not to mention his generosity in providing a seemingly endless supply of diapers. 

“Okay, okay, stop staring at me like that,” he grumbles, shifting so that he’s curled up even more comfortably in Alejo’s arms. “Are the busybodies still peeking in at us? Maybe they’re talking about us having a threesome while the baby watches.”

“Last I checked, you’re down to just two neighbors looking,” Emma says, “I’d keep those curtains around you closed for the first few weeks if I were you. Unless Josh has developed a new exhibitionist streak I don’t know about…?”

Alejo gives Josh a curious look, like he might not mind so much. 

However, the thought of all the neighbors getting to see how _good_ Alejo looks when he’s stripped down to nothing, lit by the dim bedroom lamp, makes Josh twitch a little uncomfortably, because that’s something that’s for his eyes only, as far as he’s concerned. 

“I guarantee we’re not doing that,” Josh replies, trying to make it sound casual despite the annoyed tension in his tone at the _thought_ of any of them getting their eyes on Alejo like that. “So what do you think of our little abode?”

“You know I’ve seen the place before,” Emma says. “Alejo’s had us over for cards and drinks more than once. You were there,” she reminds him sweetly, as if she isn’t making fun of him and he needs the actual reminding. After a dubious look from Josh, though, she seems to relent and take the question seriously. “I like what you’ve done so far. It looks like the both of you have had a hand in it,” she says, adjusting Jack in her arms to give him a light bounce. “You nervous about living together?”

Maybe, months ago, Josh would be, but they’ve known each other for two years now and been dating for the better part of one of them.

If Alejo were going to get tired of him and bolt, Josh thinks that he would’ve done it by now. Josh slings his arm around Alejo’s shoulders to tug him in close with a kiss to the temple. “Only fight we’ve had about the place is what sports team we’re rooting for,” Josh says with a cheerful smile. “Someone under this roof seems to like Houston a bit too much for a Dodgers fan.”

With a roll of his eyes, Alejo gives Emma a long-suffering sigh. “It’s never going to work, I think. _Dodgers_ ,” he protests.

“Oh, Josh’s poor tastes in sports team goes back long before you,” she guarantees, but she’s smiling warmly. 

She insists that she can’t stay for dinner because Matthew is expecting them and she needs to get Jack to bed just after, but Josh walks her out, giving her more thanks with every step of the way. As she’s getting her things together, she leans on her toes to press a kiss to Josh’s cheek, patting him there fondly a few times, and staring at him like a proud mama bear.

“What?” he asks, because she’s basically encouraging him to ask.

“I’m so glad that things worked out,” is what she says. “You deserve it, after McCann, and Alejo’s a _good_ man.”

“Better than I ever expected to end up with,” Josh agrees swiftly. He cranes his head back to see where Alejo has started in on dinner, wearing one of Josh’s shirts, a pair of jeans that are sinfully tight, and no socks as he putters around the kitchen, muttering to himself in Spanish. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fuck it up,” he swears, anticipating her next words.

“He better not either,” is what Emma says, instead. “You’re just as amazing, Josh, and you deserve some happiness. Now, go have dinner with your live-in boyfriend and I’ll shoo the last of the neighbors. And Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“You really should think about some heavy-duty blackout curtains. Something tells me that you’ll be needing them.”

She’s _not_ wrong, but as Josh heads back inside to help Alejo prep for dinner, he thinks that the town can bask in his annoyingly perfect happiness for a little while longer, because they were the ones so determined to get Alejo to stay. If they want to watch, then Josh plans on giving them one hell of a show.

* * *

## Three Years

“You’re honestly saying you want to go back,” says Josh, as the highway markers breeze past them, going sixty miles an hour.

It’s probably not the right time to be bringing it up again, but Josh has been a broken record as he talks about how good life could be if they just stayed _away_ from home. For all that both of them love Rose Creek and the home they’ve built there, the last two weeks honeymooning in San Francisco have been the most blissful of his life. Every time he wakes up thinking about all the responsibilities he has or his job or his busybody mother, he remembers that no, the only thing he needs to do is have sex with his husband, enjoy a lazy breakfast, and then explore the city.

Sure, it’s an idealized life that doesn’t really exist, but it’s one that Josh got used to. Still dazed from a ridiculous amount of honeymoon sex, he somehow thinks his plan to throw responsibility out and run away is viable.

Alejo gives him another amused laugh as he points to the sign as they drive past it. “With twenty miles to go, I think that you should have started this argument back at the hotel when you were in the middle of giving me that excellent blowjob.”

“I’ll know better for next time.”

It’s not that Josh doesn’t want to head back into town. He loves Rose Creek and it’s where his friends and family are, but _god_ , had it been good to get away from them for a while.

“You do know that we don’t have to run away forever just to get a break,” Alejo points out, switching off the radio now that it seems that they’re having a real conversation instead of just killing time. “The town can deal without the doctor and the vet for a few weeks a year whenever you want to escape.” He moves his palm to Josh’s knee, squeezing lightly.

The sharp inhalation of breath Josh takes in should be a sign that Alejo recognizes as a dangerous one. That little intake of breath is usually what precedes Alejo getting pounced and the both of them getting lost in each other for hours.

“Sixteen miles,” is what Josh gets out, through gritted teeth, summoning up every reserve of patience. “And you should’ve done _that_ when we parked and had lunch.”

“Are you saying you’re not willing to pull off to the side of the road and see where this goes?”

_Motherfucker_ , he knows exactly how to get to Josh.

They end up parked at sixteen miles outside of town for the better part of a half hour while Alejo takes Josh apart with nothing more than that really incredible hand of his, with Josh returning the favor frantically. Eventually, it ends up a messy make out session and Josh is reconsidering the running away bit again.

Or maybe he’s just considering more road trips.

They switch seats so that Alejo can drive the last little bit into town while Josh watches him from the passenger’s seat, still in awe that they got married a few weeks ago. His mother had been insufferable the whole wedding, insisting that Josh owed all of it to her (and worse, he probably _did_ ). Little Jack had been the ringbearer and Alejo’s whole family had come into Rose Creek, making it somehow even more of a nightmare than usual when it came to meddling relatives.

Now, though, the stress of the wedding is over and the bliss of the honeymoon period is gone, too. All that’s left is to return to their normal lives.

“Ready?” Alejo asks, as they’re driving past the ‘Welcome to Rose Creek’ sign.

“If I say no, you really willing to turn this car around?”

“Definitely not, I miss the dog,” Alejo _instantly_ replies, and damn if he doesn’t actually increase the speed so that he can get there sooner. 

For all of Josh’s talk about running away forever, the feeling of instant relief that hits him when they turn into their street and their home becomes visible for the first time is proof enough that Josh couldn’t even really leave, not since they’ve built a life for themselves here. Of course, for all of the joy and relief of coming home, there’s the flip side. 

The _annoying_ part of Rose Creek that he’d been wanting to escape.

Josh isn’t surprised to see the crowd of people outside their bungalow as they pull up. He’d texted his mother upon her request to let her know when they’d be getting back, but the fact that she’d gone and told the rest of the town that they’re back somehow doesn’t surprise him. Judging from the muttered Spanish under his breath, Alejo isn’t shocked either, but is about as pleased as Josh was.

“There goes christening the house with honeymoon sex,” Josh sighs, disappointed. This is becoming an annoying pattern where people keep intruding on his most personal moments.

Alejo gives him a plaintive look, those big wide eyes of his so sadly pathetic that Josh is almost considering snapping at the few townsfolk to go away. Instead, Alejo parks the car in the driveway and Josh crawls out with determination, his hands on his hips as he surveys the small crowd.

“One at a time, you harpies, he just got back,” Josh growls, aiming to defend his husband from having to work.

“My back gave out while you were gone…”

“I think I might have shingles!”

“Pepper ate some aluminum foil!”

That last one surprises Josh a little, because he’d been expecting that everyone would be going out of their minds with having had Alejo out of town for two weeks, but he hadn’t expected there to be pet emergencies. Sharing a glance with Alejo (who’s trying to act like nothing is happening by the way he’s hauling luggage out of the trunk), he knows that there’s no version of this day that doesn’t end with them tending to patients.

“I’ll meet you in a few hours at Goodnight’s?” Alejo suggests, handing Josh’s carry-on to him.

“Two hours, at the most,” he insists, because he’s determined not to let the last night of his honeymoon turn into his hand up a dog’s ass. He points his finger at the small crowd that’s assembled, because they’re the ones who really need the warning. “Everyone hear me? Two hours at the most, then he’s mine again.”

Sighing, he knows that he can protest forever, but it won’t do a damn thing. 

“All right, let’s go look at Pepper,” he tells old Mrs. Grant, gesturing for her to follow him down the way to his office, where another few people have started to mill around, because apparently the rumor mill in Rose Creek is bullet-speed and two weeks is an eternity to go without having either of them around.

Josh shouldn’t be surprised when two hours turns into four, but he’s still disappointed. He heads to Goodnight’s, weary, and finds Alejo sitting on the bench outside. He really thought that he’d be the one to get there first, but apparently one doggie stomach emergency had just been the start and then came the avalanche of ‘we’re so glad you’re back, can you just take a quick look’ visits. Without speaking, Josh collapses into Alejo’s arms as he settles, back to wishing that they’d turned around and driven back to San Francisco.

“Do you remember,” Alejo says, his fingers stroking along Josh’s shoulders as he presses a kiss to his neck, “when you wanted to be needed by everyone this much?” He’s teasing him, the bastard, because once upon a time, Josh actually got off on this whole helping thing.

He’s way too old for this (ignoring that it’s only been four years since he first met Alejo).

“You don’t want to have dinner at a restaurant, do you,” Alejo says, reading Josh’s exhaustion and unwillingness to be in public.

“I want pizza and sweatpants and I don’t even think I have the energy to do much more than let Cora collapse on our feet and make out for a while.” He lifts himself off of Alejo’s chest, grinning up at him when Alejo has this look on his face like he’s never heard a better idea. “Billy brought Cora by during one of my last appointments, so she’s in the truck now.”

“That sounds like we’re just missing out on the pizza, the sweats, and the making out part of this equation,” Alejo says, like the clever man he is. 

Josh gives him a long look from where he’s standing above him, tugging on both his hands to get him to standing. When Alejo finally relents and lets Josh pull him up, Josh doesn’t bother hiding the amazement in his eyes.

“What?” Alejo asks, pretty damn good at reading him by now. 

“You,” Josh says. “Us,” he goes on, acerbic in his delight. “All those years back, I never thought that we’d get to the point where our mail would be coming in with Faraday-Vasquez on it,” he says, though he’s not saying it’s a bad thing by a mile. “I’m really glad you stayed, but I need you to know that even if you left, you wouldn’t have been doing it alone.” He’s told this to Alejo so many times over the last few years, but it feels important to let him know that their relationship and them being together wouldn’t have stopped if Alejo had decided Rose Creek wasn’t for him.

Alejo looks suitably charmed, but there’s a wariness on his face.

“We’re not running away,” is what he says, as if getting to the heart of the whole ‘I go where you go’ speech of Josh’s. 

Mildly disappointed, but figuring that would pretty much be the answer, Josh figures he can concede to staying, so long as every once in a while, they get to escape. 

“I love you,” Alejo says, squeezing Josh’s hand as they head back to theirs, Josh’s arm slung around Alejo’s shoulders to curl him in tight. “Even if our plans get ruined so often by our friends and family.”

“ _So_ often,” Josh complains. “This is why I’m glad it’s you and me against the town, now. I’ve got an ally.”

Alejo may be laughing as they head home, but he doesn’t deny it. More than anything, that’s what the marriage vows mean to Josh – it’s someone at his side, living the lives that they want, facing the challenges _together_. Even if they get interrupted once in a while, they’ve got a whole life together to make up for any lost time.

Yeah, Josh can get used to being back in town, but the reason he’s going to enjoy it is standing right beside him.

* * *

## Five Years 

“Sweetheart?” Josh lets himself in the front door, hanging up Cora’s leash after he bends down to let her off it, wondering if he’s managed to beat Alejo home even though he’d taken Cora out for a long run. Letting the dog run through the house, she does the hard work for him in finding his husband, currently pacing in the living room of their bungalow on the phone.

Josh leans against the door frame with a long, lecherous look at Alejo, who’s currently wearing the intimately tight yoga pants Josh bought him last Christmas and one of Josh’s t-shirts.

“You’re sure he wants that?” Alejo mouths ‘Emma’ to Josh, swatting mildly when Josh wanders into the room to wrap his sweaty arms around Alejo from behind, causing a bout of disbelieving laughter. “No,” he protests, “No, it’s just my idiot husband thinking I want his sweat all over me. …Not like that,” he chides, pushing at Josh. “I’ll talk about it with him.” He leans back to press a peck of a kiss to Josh’s cheek. “Say hi to little Jack for us.”

Tossing his cell phone to the couch, Alejo turns and grabs Josh by the hips, walking him towards the wall as he shakes his head. “Hey, sweetheart,” Josh greets him with a shit-eating grin. “What are you going to talk about with me?”

“For one, not getting all your sweat on my nice pants,” Alejo says, acting like they’re his best clothes and not the things he wears around the house. “Two, interrupting my phone call so I can’t give you the ‘welcome home’ kiss you deserve,” he says, leaning into Josh’s space to correct that egregious error. “And three, she wants us to talk about what we’re going to try and do to keep the new mechanic in town. I think matchmaking came up as an option?”

Josh lets out a bark of a laugh. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Me doing this,” Josh says, shaking his head. “I’m turning into my goddamn mother because I am actually _considering_ it. It’s been a long time since we’ve had the garage up and running and Red’s been damn good at it. Not to mention, that step-dad of his taking over the bar has been good for the main strip.”

“He’s a strange man but I think he’s been a grounding force and distraction for some of the older women,” Alejo admits. “So, are we going to sit around talking about the new man in town or do I get to kiss my husband hello?”

The trouble is that Josh’s already decided to go down the road of the former and stubborn as he is, there’s pretty much no moving him away from that decision. Prying Alejo’s hands off him, he heads into the bedroom so he can strip off his clothes, not letting Alejo (who’s groaning and bitching) out of his sight. His thoughts are running about a mile a minute, which means that now he’s not even noticing his handsome husband seemingly gearing up to seduce him.

“I have a plan,” Josh says, which he’s only just hatched now that he knows that Emma and the others are conspiring, but it’s a _good_ plan and he knows that Alejo will agree as soon as he hears it.

Bemused, but seemingly willing to entertain him, Alejo crawls onto the bed, leaning back on one elbow and looking far sexier in this mussed state than any man has a right to be. He makes a hand gesture to encourage Josh to talk. He’s probably crazy because Alejo is absently running his thumb over his lower lip, the light glinting off his wedding band, but he honestly does want to _talk_ instead of take advantage of the present lying in front of him.

“Stop it, you goddamn menace,” Josh says, annoyed, as he swats at Alejo’s hand once he’s stripped off all his sweaty running clothes other than his boxer-briefs. 

“The last time this town tried to woo someone into staying with matchmaking, it didn’t work so well, remember,” Alejo says, raising both his hands to protest like the smug asshole he is, lying back and letting Josh crawl overtop him, settling into a straddle. “Lucky for me, I met a very handsome vet who wanted nothing to do with their meddling.”

“Well, who’s to say that Red and Teddy won’t get along like a house on fire?” Josh counters, feeling stubborn and damn well hating the way he sounds so convinced. Apparently, he’s now determined to play matchmaker, because he’s thinking about places for them to meet. 

Alejo is staring up at him like he’s trying to tell Josh that he knows better, but he feels like he has a trump card.

“We got married,” he points out.

“I see dementia hasn’t kicked in,” Alejo deadpans. “Yes, _nene_ , we’re married.”

“Shut up, I’m saying that clearly something worked out to keep you in town and now we’ve got a nice family practice and you’re training that Anthony kid to join up,” Josh rambles, stopping Alejo from surging up to steal a kiss (because when he does that, he _knows_ how distracted Josh gets, so he’s clearly doing it on purpose). “I mean it!” he protests, laughing as he lets Alejo tumble him onto his back so that Alejo’s on top. “I want a good mechanic for my bike, she deserves it.”

“Oh, _she_ ,” Alejo mimics. 

“I’m setting them up whether you like it or not,” Josh warns, the both of them devolving into laughter that only gets worse when Cora hears it and seemingly feels left out, leaping onto the bed to prance around the both of them like they’re in the middle of roughhousing. 

Alejo eventually seems to understand that he’s fighting a losing battle, slumping back against the bed and shaking his head. “You’re going to do this,” he says with a sigh. “Why do you think Red is going to be right for Teddy? You and Teddy didn’t hit it off, neither did I with him.”

“Well, ain’t that lucky,” is Josh’s sarcastic reply. “Strange how he’s neither of our types.”

“You think he’s Red’s?”

Josh has a vicious grin on his lips, because, “I can do better than think.” He levels a warning look on Alejo not to make the expected joke. “When he was working on my bike, he kept talking about how frustrated he’s been with the small-town life, seeing as his Grindr account hasn’t had many bites for weeks and that the last few have been too blonde, too blue-eyed, and too rough for his liking. In that order,” he says.

“At least ‘too pretty’ isn’t in there,” Alejo concedes. He stares up at Josh with a critical look, like he’s working a problem in his head. “If I say don’t do this, you’re just going to go behind my back and do it anyway, right?”

“You know me so well,” Josh agrees cheerfully, sliding forward to pin Alejo’s wrists over his head. “You could help me,” he says. “Talk to Red, see what he wants out of a date. You know you’d be happier if Teddy found some happiness, you’re always talking about how bad you feel for the man.”

Though Alejo makes a face, Josh knows he’s got him where he wants him (in more ways than one). He’s had Alejo wrapped around his little finger for years now, and he doesn’t even have to use his pathetic puppy-dog eyes on the man anymore. That’s how much he’s got him.

“Fine,” Alejo grumbles before he starts to make Josh forget that they were ever talking about anything other than getting naked and enjoying each other’s company.

Josh is _thorough_ when it comes to the plan. He makes the reservations, makes sure that Teddy dresses up properly, sets Red up to meet him, and then sits at the bar with Goodnight to observe the whole thing in action. Alejo, mature and adult man that he is, stays at home and enjoys the quiet to read a book.

Everything goes _really_ well. 

In fact, it’s better than Josh had expected. They leave together and no one’s thrown wine at one another, which is a step above some of the blind dates he’d been sent on, earlier in his life. The next morning, he hears that no one saw Red leave Teddy’s apartment, so he’s thinking that it’s gone _very_ well, which means that Josh puts it out of mind.

It's three weeks later that his little adventure in matchmaking becomes top of mind again. He and Alejo are at the monthly farmer’s market to stock up on ingredients for the next while when he feels a firm pressure at his wrist. Josh stops inspecting the strawberries to glance to where Alejo is trying to get him to look.

Suddenly, all the worrying and the planning become worth it when it looks like Josh has been successful. Down the aisle, he sees Red with a big grin on his face, which is a change from his usually serious countenance. He’s with Teddy and they’re laughing over something at Emma’s little booth where Jack is helping as much as a five-year-old can. Maybe for all the rejections and disasters, this is why matchmakers keep going, because when it goes right, it goes _really_ right.

“Oh, thank god,” Alejo breathes out beside him.

Well, sure, it’s nice that Teddy’s happy, but that sounds just a little too relieved. Josh gives Alejo a suspicious look, wondering why he looks like he’s just seen a miracle.

“Something you’re not telling me, sweetheart?”

“If it had gone bad, you would have kept on setting him up with other people,” is what Alejo says. “I love you, but if you turned into your mother so early, I don’t know if the wedding vows would have been enough.”

“Hey, asshole,” Josh snaps, but he’s laughing playfully as he gives Alejo a mock shove, tugging him back into his arms pretty much instantly. He knows that it’s not attractive to be smug about this, but he can feel the way his mouth is turned upwards with sheer delight, given that he’s such a natural matchmaker that his very first attempt has clearly gone well and this is only after a few dates. “They look happy.”

“It could just be very good sex.” 

“It’s not, unless Teddy took a few classes,” is what Josh says flatly, earning a glare from Alejo, who really never does like being reminded of the fact that Josh and Teddy fucked a few times, ages back. “You’re a thousand times better, I promise you,” he vows, and he doesn’t think it’s just because they’re in love. “Look, if it works, then it works. If it doesn’t, it’s still more than Teddy’s had luck with for years, right?”

Alejo seems to be slowly coming around to the logic, grumbling and finally conceding when Josh gets up close and personal for a kiss. “Fine,” he sighs. “I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

Neither does Josh, honestly. 

It’s a good thing, then, that months after that, Red still seems pretty interested in Teddy. He’s been by both Alejo’s practice and Josh’s to ask for tips on what Teddy might like, has asked about his romantic history (which was then followed by a week where Red glowered at both Alejo and Josh every time he saw them), and six months after the first date that Josh set them up on, they’re still together.

It's not that Josh has been gloating _always_ about that, just seventy-five percent of the time.

“Did I tell you that Teddy visited the flower shop for anniversary bouquets?” Josh pokes at Alejo to get him off his iPad, trying to engage him in conversation before they fall asleep. When Alejo lowers the tablet, he gives Josh an unimpressed look. “What?” he demands defensively.

“Turning,” Alejo says, kissing Josh’s nose, “into,” he goes on, setting the tablet on the nightstand, “your,” is murmured against Josh’s lips when Alejo slides into a graceful straddle, “mother.”

“You want to fuck my mom, huh?” Josh retorts with a smirk, leaning back and resting his hands comfortably on Alejo’s waist. Alejo makes a face, but that’s gone quickly enough when he leans in close for a kiss. 

“How come I don’t get six-month anniversary bouquets? We’ve only been married two years, the spark can’t be dead yet,” Alejo maligns, like he’s honestly distraught about Josh not packing flowers into their house (that Cora would just end up eating and giving Josh heart palpitations as he worried about which poisonous ones she’d end up eating). “Do you not want me anymore?”

Josh gives him a look of disbelief as he stares up at his husband, wondering how such a smart man can often be so stupid.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” he tells him. “Now, come down here and make me forget all about my victories as an incredible matchmak…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Alejo is too busy listening to Josh, cupping the back of his neck as he slides down to eliminate the space between their bodies, taking Josh apart until he genuinely can’t remember what the hell they’d been talking about before. 

Strangely, Josh can’t find it in him to mind.

* * *

In eight years, Josh finds the first of what will be many grey hairs to come. Alejo makes fun of him for it, but has to shut up when a few white hairs turn up in his beard a few months later. It’s the first sign that they’re getting older, but definitely won’t be the last.

Ten years after Alejo first moves to town, Josh finally gets to meet _the_ ex-boyfriend that put everything into motion. It turns out that John is polite as anything, he’s running for Congress, and Josh can’t find it in him to dislike him because it’s not that he was an asshole to Alejo, just wrong for him. The same can’t be said for when Alejo runs into McCann at a conference and gets himself arrested for punching him in the face ( _six times_ ), but Josh couldn’t be prouder after he bails him out.

In time, the years start to drift without either of them paying much attention, but soon enough, with twenty-five years passed, Josh looks back and though there’s been downs along with all those ups, it’s the best version of his life that he figures he was ever going to get. When he looks over the breakfast table to Alejo reading the paper, still not fully white because the vain bastard dyes it, he can’t help his fond laugh.

“What?” Alejo asks, not looking up from his paper.

“Nothing,” Josh replies, tangling their feet together at the ankles. “Just thinking that I’m the luckiest man I know.”

“Can’t be, that’s been me for twenty-five years,” Alejo replies, sipping his coffee. “You’re happy, though, yes? With us and our little life, in a small town?” He sounds worried, like somehow this isn’t enough for Josh (although, given his romantic history, it’s a viable concern for both of them).

“Better than happy, I’m home,” Josh agrees with a smirk, ducking the hand towel that gets thrown at him for the sappy comment, but with a loud laugh, he leans over to pick it up, giving Alejo a fond grin, because as ridiculous and full of sap as his words had been, he’s also not telling an ounce of a lie.

This is their home and it’s their life and as far as Josh is concerned, it’s _perfect_.

He's just getting ready for the next twenty-five years and there’s no one in the universe that’ll stop him from appreciating them with everything he’s got.


End file.
